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———

During the summer, Baxter Park usually saw its fair share of sunbathers sprawled on checkered blankets, college kids diving for frisbees, and families huddled around smoking grills with the scent of charcoal hanging in the air. But on this particular day, Baxter Park’s typical Saturday crowd had been replaced by something far less wholesome and far more fun.

It was late in the afternoon, and all day long the park had been a hedonistic carnival of color and noise from one end to the other. Thumping and energetic music mixed with drunken laughter, happy howls and enthusiastic yips, raucous cheers, and the slapping impacts of bodies colliding with one another. Dogs of every conceivable build and breed joined the party—barrel-chested Rottweilers with bellies straining against their leather harnesses, lithe and twinky Dalmatians with glitter-dusted shoulders and rainbow jockstraps, muscled and hunky Dobermans and German Shepherds with glossy fur, sleek-looking coonhounds and kelpies, collies and terriers, and more, so many more, and everything in between. And not a single one of them was wearing a full set of clothes; instead, the men who walked Baxter Park’s concrete paths, rolled in the grass, and danced on the central lawn had their fur exposed, with chests and bellies and butt cheeks on full display, their modesty covered by the jockstraps, thongs, booty shorts, and skimpy briefs that contained the fabric-strained bulges between their legs. And more than a few of the party’s bolder attendees had forgone their underwear completely; some were nonchalant about it, casually enjoying the revelry, and others strutted around proudly in the buff, letting their cocks and balls swing freely in the summer air while drawing appreciative glances and occasional playful pats, lascivious gropes, and teasing squeezes from passing admirers.

And as far as the eye could see, pup hoods dominated the mass of men, with more than three-quarters of the party’s attendees wearing every style and color imaginable—leather, neoprene, and latex rubber in matte black, neon pink, glittering gold, ocean blue, and everywhere in between on the color spectrum. Some of the hoods featured complex patterns on their muzzles and faces while others were simple and plain, and some had open holes to reveal a broad range of naturally perked, floppy, short, or long ears, while others sported pre-made ears sticking up at defined angles. And more accessories completed each pup’s ensemble—collars circling throats, harnesses crisscrossing chests, leashes dangling and being held by others, and colorful armbands around wrists and biceps.

Pups, handlers, friends, packs, and strays ebbed and flowed across the park; overhead, in addition to the pride flags that had been strung up, festival banners swayed and rippled in the breeze, emblazoned with “Ruff Pups Summer Fest” in playful lettering and framed by cartoonish paw prints and bouncing tennis balls.

At the south end of the park's central green space, a stage had been set up with towering speaker stacks that vibrated with each bass drop. A couple hundred men had gravitated towards the stage and formed an impromptu mosh, their fur damp with sweat as they writhed, gyrated, and ground against each other to the beat of the music. Meanwhile, the northern end of the park’s lawn hosted a sprawling bar that stretched under an enormous white big top tent, where more thirsty pups and handlers had swarmed and the rainbow bandana-wearing bartenders were working overtime to keep glasses full.

While Baxter Park’s middle hub had been converted to a main event space, the rest of the park hosted dozens of other attractions scattered around it.

Pop-up tents created a maze of commerce, with vendors hawking everything from glistening leather fetish gear with polished metal studs to skimpy underwear in every kind of fabric imaginable, from hand-crafted pup hoods to artisanal dog-themed accessories like leashes braided with intricate patterns, bandanas screen-printed with cheeky slogans, and collars adorned with custom tags.

In a roped-off section marked “Walkies Area” with a wooden sign, dominant handlers—some with stern expressions, others with indulgent smiles—guided their leashed pups through an obstacle course of trees, bushes, and authentic-looking, red rubber fire hydrants. The pups crawled on all fours, their tails in the air and their noses to the ground, stopping to sniff the landscape with exaggerated movements; some pups who crossed paths would eagerly circle one another, sniffing and snorting between each others’ legs before resuming their walk…while other more bratty pups would try to mount each other, prompting their handlers to admonish them and pull them away.

Stainless steel dog bowls brimmed with ice water across the park’s grounds, their rims collecting condensation. Likewise, inflatable kiddie pools in garish primary colors had been strategically placed under shady trees, offering respite from the scorching heat that had been going all day long—even now that it was late in the afternoon—and more than a few pups and their handlers were splashing around and cooling off in them.

The playground had been repurposed with adult-sized ball pits filled with glossy spheres that stuck to sweaty fur, thick rubberized mats, and reinforced wire kennels where “bad pups” knelt with their foreheads pressed against the bars, tongues lolling as they panted in staged punishment.

The park’s lawn bowling area, meanwhile, had become an unofficial mosh and wrestling pit—bodies piled on another as arms locked around torsos, jockstraps rode up to further expose the curves of ass cheeks, and sweat-damp chests slid against each other as grunts and playful growls filled the air. And that was where Caleb found himself pinned belly-down, his face mashed into the soft rubber mat while a wiry Border Collie sat on top of him, gripping his wrists and pinning his hands above his head.

The black Labrador—wearing a hunter green and black pup hood on his head, a bulldog-style harness on his chest, a green and black collar around his throat, and a matching green and black jockstrap—giggled and laughed, his head spinning from the potent combo of weed gummies he’d eaten earlier and the steady stream of drinks his father had been surreptitiously slipping him (due to the fact that Caleb was under the legal drinking age and had to wear an orange wristband to mark him as such) since they’d gotten to the festival.

“Woof! Woof! Uncle! Hahaha, uncle!” Caleb yipped, laughing as he squirmed and wiggled his butt in a feeble attempt to escape; the 20 year-old and strapping Labrador had a fair amount of muscle, but he’d underestimated the leaner and more nimble Border Collie pinning him down, and now he was paying for it with a pair of black and white-furred thighs cradling the sides of his head and a happy tail whipping against his back.

The Border Collie on top of him barked in victory, and playfully thrust with his hips to push Caleb deeper into the mat. “Awruff!”

“Good boy!” someone cheered.

Caleb grunted and strained, then laughed almost hysterically. “Haha! Hey, I give! Hahaha!”

With one more humbling grind, the Border Collie relented, allowing the Labrador to crawl free and make a move to extricate him from the wrestling pile. On his hands and knees, Caleb shook himself, flapping his ears and wriggling his tail…

“Whew!” For a moment he was just going to catch his breath before diving back into the fray…

“Gotcha!” A deep voice sounded off behind Caleb just as a pair of brawny arms wrapped around his midriff.

“Oof!” Caleb grunted with a startled gasp and faceplanted into the mat when he was immediately tackled again from behind. The sudden weight squeezed the air from his lungs and pinned him down, and the waistband of his jockstrap rode up high on his back.

“Awrf! Hey! Ah—hey!” He huffed and flailed under the large weight on top of him, struggling to flip over until his assailant eased up enough to let him twist and roll onto his back. And that was when Caleb saw that another black Labrador—this one wearing nothing but his sweat-dampened fur, a black and cobalt blue hood, and a cobalt jockstrap to hold the hefty bulge of his junk—was on top of him.

The newcomer’s barrel chest heaved against Caleb’s own, and his hot, beer-flavored breath panted over the boy’s face while the corners of his lilac-colored eyes crinkled with a mischievous grin. The dog in the cobalt hood outweighed the green-hooded Caleb by at least 40 pounds of pure dad-bod and was a couple inches taller; if it weren’t for the differences in Caleb’s more toned physique and the other dog’s thicker and burlier build, they could’ve been identical.

“Ahaha! You motherfucker, lemme go!” Caleb laughed, wriggling under his dad’s bulk and shoving uselessly against his chest. The fact he’d even managed to roll onto his back was pure charity—Leon had the weight advantage and firmly sat on top of his son, preventing the boy from budging any further.

“Woof! Nah-ah, kiddo…you’re all mine,” Leon growled playfully, dominantly grinding on top of his son. The 51 year-old grabbed both of Caleb’s wrists in one broad paw and pinned them to the rubber mat before he leaned in closer—

“Urrrup!” Leon belched right in his son’s face, giving the green-hooded pup under him a full blast of his humid and malt-soured breath—the result of all the lagers he’d been knocking back since he and Caleb had first arrived at the festival more than seven hours ago.

“Eugh, fuck!” Caleb gagged.

“Hehe, you love it,” Leon drunkenly sniggered.

“Ngh! What happened to you just watchin’, old man?”

“Hehe…saw how much fun you were havin’…couldn’t resist! Man, feels so good…gettin’ back in a mosh like this!” Leon’s words tumbled out in a slightly slurred rush, and he leaned in close to nip his son’s ear. The sweat-damp fur of their chests pressed together as Leon shifted his weight, and the older dog’s crotch bore down on Caleb’s—the firm bulges beneath the stretched fabric of their jockstraps rubbed together in a way that made the younger dog’s breath catch in his throat and his cock stir in his sheath. “Got in a few rounds while you were busy with that Collie, and I won more ‘n I lost,” Leon bragged.

“Heh, bet a lotta the younger pups…loooooooved havin’ you on top of ‘em,” Caleb teased.

“Mmngh, you better believe it,” the older dog said proudly before grinding on top of his son again. “Rff! You havin’ fun, puppy?”

“Awruff!” Caleb barked, still pinned under the heavy warmth of his father.

“Atta boy—ah-ah-ah, no gettin’ up,” Leon drunkenly chuckled as his son kept squirming and pushing against him.

“Come ooooon, lemme gooooo!”

“Tell me who’s your daddy n’ I will.”

“Ngh! No!” Caleb grunted, playfully defiant.

“Oooh, so that’s how you wanna be? Fine, try…try thisonforsize,” Leon slurred as he shifted his weight and readjusted to lift his arm, revealing a dark patch of damp fur; he pressed in, smothering his son’s face in his armpit.

“Arf! Arf! Mmmmmm…” Caleb’s muffled barks turned into an indulgent groan as he inhaled deeply. “No…no fair…using your…secret weapon,” he mumbled between greedy huffs and sniffs as he licked and nuzzled into the humid hollow of his dad’s armpit, drinking in the tang of salt, earthy musk, and Leon’s natural scent. His eyelids fluttered closed as Leon flexed his bicep, trapping Caleb’s face even further under his arm, and the young Labrador wriggled enthusiastically under the heft of his dad’s weight. Around him and Leon, the wrestling pups continued in their frenzy of movement and sound, bodies colliding on the mats, barks and yips mingling with each other, but Caleb barely noticed now that he was so preoccupied. “Nnnguuuuh…fuck, you smell so good, Dad…”

“Tha’s a goo’ boy…jus’…drink it all in…that’s Daddy’s goo’ puppy,” Leon smugly crooned. He rolled his hips slowly, deliberately grinding the firm and meaty bulge within his cobalt jockstrap against the matching swell in his son's green one…and his heart skipped a beat as the heat of his arousal pooled in the pit of his stomach and the tip of his semi-chubbed member poked out of his sheath to press against the fabric of his underwear.

———

The tree-lined, five-acre square of manicured grass in Baxter Park’s southwestern corner had been set aside as a space for pups to stretch their legs, handlers to loosen their grips on leashes, and for anyone and everyone to have some respite from the more active areas of the festival. The pounding bassline from the giant stereo speakers on the park's main lawn still throbbed through the air like a distant heartbeat, but here in this sheltered little oasis, there was no need to move to the rhythm. Some pups were simply tossing balls and throwing frisbees to each other while others lounged in the grass or sprawled belly-up on checkered blankets under umbrellas, tongues lolling as they panted in the heat. Alberith had posted up in the shade of one of the oak trees near the lawn’s perimeter, beside a weathered wooden bench, and his arm was cocked back behind him, ready to launch the tennis ball that he held; about thirty yards away, standing in the full glare of the sun, Oberoth was alert and waiting, his eyes locked on the dog in the shade and his tail hiked up behind him like a flag.

“Get it, boy!” Alberith yelled as he chucked the tennis ball as hard as he could.

The black Labrador might have been pushing 60, as evinced by the patch of silver-white fur that bloomed like frost across his otherwise dark chest, but his body was still military-grade solid—deltoids that bunched like fists beneath his fur when he moved, a broad and defined chest with firm pecs that hadn’t softened one bit with age (and featured the gold tattooed emblem of his beloved Corps), a beefy slab of fat and muscle on his gut, and legs powerful enough to push a loaded Jeep. A navy blue jockstrap was stretched taut over his substantial package, matching the navy blue and black hood he wore on his head, and the bulge of his crotch swayed with the motion of his body as he launched the tennis ball into the air; his arm—the same one that had once easily hefted munitions for artillery cannons during his years in the service—worked like a spring-loaded catapult, and despite the fact that Alberith had been steadily drinking pale ales throughout the day (to the point that he was well beyond “buzzed” and deep in “drunk” territory), he still sent the ball flying a good fifty yards across the summer sky towards the black Labrador waiting for him.

Oberoth was already in hot pursuit, a black streak against emerald grass. At 29, he was a younger reflection of his father, with the same midnight-black fur interrupted by a smaller patch of white on his chest, and a similar yet distinctly less developed musculature compared to Alberith’s. His powerful haunches bunched and released with each stride, and his bare feet dug into the lawn as he pounded the grass to intercept the tennis ball; he panted happily through the muzzle of his hunter green and black pup hood; the black and green bulldog-style harness he wore bounced lightly on his chest as he ran; the metal “Good Boy” tag on his collar jangled in time with his footfalls; the metal studs on his green and black armband flashed as they caught the sun’s light, and his tail wagged energetically while the bulge of his hunter green jockstrap—damp with sweat from all the games of fetch he and Alberith had played for the past 45 minutes—heftily swung from side to side against his thighs as he tore across the lawn.

As inebriated as he already was thanks to the gin and tonics he’d been drinking like water, Oberoth managed to run in a relatively straight line, and his route took him past a sprawling cuddle pile of pups, and he swerved around a huge, solitary Mastiff who was enjoying the tickle of grass against his back as he rolled around completely naked under the sun.

“C’mon! Tha’s a goo’ hustle, goo’ hustle!” Alberith gruffly called, watching his boy race towards the tennis ball that had begun to arc downward…

Oberoth leapt into the air, leading with his muzzle, his jaws open…

And the tennis ball bounced off the top of his head.

“Hahaha!” Barking and howling with laughter, Oberoth landed on the ground in a heap with the ball a few feet away from him.

Alberith rolled his eyes and shook his head to himself before he turned to the wooden bench where he’d placed his half-drained cup of pale ale; he took a swig from the plastic cup and watched his son roll over in the grass to pick up the tennis ball in his mouth, and soon enough Oberoth was on his feet again and dancing to himself with the ball clamped between his jaws.

“Whoooooo!” he howled around the tennis ball.

Alberith chuckled before he bellowed, “Alright, bring it here, mutt!”

Oberoth zigzagged his way back across the grass, trotting along in an unhurried and lackadaisical manner, with the tennis ball still between his teeth. With each sauntering step the younger Labrador took, Alberith found himself tracking the motion of his son’s shoulders, the swagger in his stride, the way his jockstrap was riding precariously low now, the grip of his jaws while he grinned around his slobbery prize…it was like the boy was born to have something in his mouth and be proud about it…and Oberoth was carrying himself with that kind of casually cocky and teasing confidence that only a son could wear when putting on a show for his old man.

“Heh, keep prancin’ like that, gonna…gonna give someone ideas ‘bout you, pup,” Alberith gruffly slurred as his son came closer.

Oberoth spat the tennis ball directly into his dad’s waiting paw with a wet pop. “Yeah? Wha’ kinda ideas?” he panted, his tongue lolling out the corner of his muzzle.

Alberith snorted as he sized up his son—the rhythm of his panting, the sweat that clung to his fur, the bulge in the cup of his jockstrap, those eager and teasing eyes of his…the older Lab’s cock twitched in his sheath at the thought of just mauling Oberoth right then and there. “The kind that’re gonna make you walk even funnier ‘n you already do.”

“Woof, sounds…soundstome like you’re already gettin’ some ideas, ol’ man,” Oberoth teased as he flexed both arms behind his head to stretch, making a grand gesture of showing off his toned chest and exposing his armpits.

Alberith growled and assertively grabbed the central strap of his son’s chest harness—he pulled, hauling the younger dog closer to him. “Tha’s ‘Sir’ to you, pup. How many times I gotta teach you your place?”

Oberoth dropped his arms and giggled, his eyes alight with an impish—and drunken—glint. “Aw, whatcha gonna do, big dog? You gonna punish me? Is the big…bad drill sergeant gonna teach me a lesson I’m never gonna forget?”

Alberith smirked under the navy blue neoprene of his muzzle as he held up the tennis ball—still wet with his son’s spit—in his other hand. “Heh…gonna do worse ‘n that, you lil’ brat: I’m gonna leave you here n’ find me another pup to play fetch with. N’ if he…catches this here ball n’ behaves…then I’m gonna take ‘em home n’ spoil ‘em rotten while you’re…left out here all by yourself. You want that?”

Oberoth’s eyes widened at his father’s threat and wriggled desperately while Alberith still held his chest harness. “Arf! Arf! No!”

“Then be a goo’ boy n’ show me you wanna play by my rules,” Alberith snarled, leaning into the role of disciplinarian even more as he used the harness to aggressively push his son down in front of him.

Oberoth’s knees hit the ground and he immediately dropped to all fours, his ass up and his tail flagging as he exaggeratedly waggled his butt. “Woof! Woof!” He looked up pleadingly at his dad and pawed at Alberith’s thigh. “Gimme! I want it, Sir. Pleeeaase? I’ll be good, I promise! C’mon, don’t be mean!”

The older Lab barked with laughter—his son might have been on the cusp of 30, but it was hilariously gratifying to have him reduced to such childish and puppy-like behavior, and the beer he’d been drinking just made the whole scene even funnier to Alberith. The harsh and angry military facade gave way to the playful handler he was in the moment, and he waved the tennis ball in wild arcs, teasing Oberoth with feints and fake-outs as he slurred, “Haha! Youwantheball? Youwantit? Where is it? Where’saball? Youwanttheball?”

Oberoth’s head swiveled frantically from side to side as he tracked the green fuzzy object of his desire, and he wriggled harder and harder as he barked and whined with each fake-out. “Arf! Arf! Arf!”

“Go get it!”

Alberith lobbed the ball, deliberately under-throwing so that it bounced on the ground ten yards away. “Tha’s all you get ‘til you c’n prove…you’re worth a real throw again!” he taunted.

Oberoth scrambled after the tennis ball, crawling as fast as he could on his hands and knees over the grass, until he scooped it up in his mouth again, tumbling and rolling in a heap in the process. He landed on his back, with his jockstrap riding even lower on his hips, and for a moment he chewed on the ball while he lay there, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath…before he rolled back over to a crouch.

Alberith snorted as he watched his son amp up the show—Oberoth was clearly enjoying himself and sinking deeper into that pup headspace, as the younger dog kicked his legs out in a mock shake, gnawed on the ball with exaggerated chomps, and then crawled back, still on his hands and knees, his tail wagging enthusiastically. When Oberoth reached his dad’s feet, he nuzzled the older Lab’s leg and then craned his head up to spit the tennis ball into Alberith’s waiting hand again.

“Arf! Howwasat, Sir?” Oberoth panted.

“Real good, boy.” He gripped Oberoth’s chin and forced him to look up, both gentle and commanding. “You wanna keep playin’? Gotta earn it, son. Show…show me you’re hungry for it.”

Oberoth wagged his tail, then leaned forward and, without breaking eye contact, licked a long, slow stripe up the inside of Alberith’s thigh, stopping just shy of where the full and hefty pouch of his navy blue jockstrap hung between his legs. Part of him wanted to keep going—he certainly didn’t have many inhibitions left after how much he’d been drinking throughout the day—but at the same time it felt good to just tease his dad like this, not quite going all the way…

“Oh, I’m reeeeal hungry for it, Sir,” the young Lab huffed, the tip of his muzzle brushing the underside of Alberith’s package—all that separated Oberoth’s nose from his dad’s testicles was the layer of neoprene on the 29 year-old’s snout and the nylon of the 59 year-old’s jockstrap. Although there might as well have been nothing between them, the scent of Alberith’s ball sweat was so strong that it filled Oberoth’s nose, making his stomach flip and his cock twitch in his sheath.

“Hehe, like the way you think, puppy. ‘N I’m gonna put that mouth to work,” Alberith said teasingly. He then raised his arm, lifting the tennis ball and cocking it back at an angle that promised real distance this time. “But you still gotta earn it first…go fetch!”

———

Even though he’d managed to get on top of his dad by now, Caleb could still smell the musk and sweat he’d inhaled when his face had been trapped in Leon’s armpit.

The two Labradors had been a tangle of black fur, drool, and laughter, wrestling and grappling in a play fight for dominance, with Caleb struggling and Leon incrementally easing up to let his son have a fighting chance…until Caleb had finally managed to get the upper hand and roll his dad onto his stomach before he swiftly pinned the older Lab’s arms behind his back.

“Oof! Nghehehe, hope you’re enjoyin’ yourself back there, kiddo,” Leon drunkenly grunted, belly-down on the mat; the older dog rocked back and forth with the motion of Caleb grinding on top of him, humping his ass in victory.

“Grrrrr…damn right I am!” Caleb barked. He was dizzier than ever thanks to the mix of pot gummies, alcohol, and adrenaline in his system, but he kept rutting his dad, and his tongue lolled out with the kind of manic delight that came from being simultaneously stoned and drunk and treating his old man like a chew toy.

But inebriated as he was, Leon didn’t play the passive victim. Even as he groaned theatrically under Caleb’s onslaught, he twisted and bucked, using his hips to try to throw his son off. The Labrador 31 years his junior went on with dogged persistence, locking his legs around Leon’s as best as he could while he pressed down on his back, refusing to give up the top position…

“Hngh!” Leon grunted as he kicked his feet, but that did nothing to dislodge the boy on top of him.

Caleb growled as he went on thrusting against his dad’s ass, and his dick pushed hard against the fabric of his green jockstrap; if the young Labrador hadn’t been wearing the garment, he would’ve been fully hot-dogging his father by this point. “C’mon, old man! You gettin’ soft on me?”

“Hehe, just lettin’ you have your moment, kiddo,” Leon snorted as he arched his back, nearly bucking Caleb off.

But the young dog still held fast to his dad’s backside, and he humped harder, aggressively grinding his crotch against Leon’s ass…at least for the moment.

“‘Nuff of that, though!” Leon grunted just before he channeled his strength into a sudden twist, and he rolled to his side.

“Ah!” The boy yelped when he felt his world flip, and his face was crushed into the mat as his dad’s full weight landed on top of him again.

Leon moved fast for a man his age—in another instant, he had twisted around again and scissored his powerful thighs around Caleb’s head while he had his son’s lower half pinned to the mat, preventing the boy from budging.

“Hah! Gotcha!” Leon barked proudly. “Gotta do better n’ that if you wanna keep up with the big dogs!” As if to emphasize his point, he slapped Caleb’s trapped backside, earning a jolt from his son.

“Aw fuck! No fair, I was winnin’!” Caleb huffed; with his body trapped and twisted in an awkward almost-69 position that left him completely at Leon’s mercy, the young Labrador was now face-to-face with his dad’s taint and ass, with a perfect view of the cobalt blue nylon straps that stretched around Leon’s sturdy thighs and broad waist.

“Not anymore, boy. Now you gonna tap out or am I gonna have to make you say it?” Leon demanded.

“Rrrrff!” Caleb growled defiantly as he struggled to get out of his dad’s hold; he squirmed furiously, his hips bucking, but he was too entangled to do more than just wriggle under Leon like a rowdy puppy.

“Heh…have it your way, then, kiddo,” Leon snickered as he pushed his hand between Caleb’s vulnerable legs; his fingers brushed against the fur of his son’s inner thighs before slipping beneath the sweat-dampened fabric of his jockstrap.

The nylon and elastic pouch stretched as Leon's paw invaded the warm space, and Caleb jerked and struggled in his father’s hold.

“No! No-no-no!” the young Lab whined…

But there was no stopping Leon from slipping his hand deeper into the pouch. With a possessive growl, he threateningly wrapped his hand around his son’s testicles, and the older dog chuckled as he gave them the gentlest of squeezes, feeling their weight and warmth filling his palm. Against his knuckles, Leon felt what could only be the heft of Caleb’s hardening, twitching shaft pressing against the back of his hand and straining against the fabric of his jockstrap.

———

What had started as Alberith throwing for his son had eventually reversed, and Oberoth began throwing the ball for his dad—not as hard or as far, considering he didn’t have the well-practiced or muscled throwing arm that Alberith had. But it was still enough to make the older dog pant tiredly as he chased after the ball, and his chest heaved harder and harder every time he brought the ball back in his mouth for Oberoth to throw it again. Alberith might have been in great shape for a man his age, but he was no spring chicken.

Unfortunately for Alberith, Oberoth eventually got to the point where couldn’t resist taking advantage of that fact.

“You want the ball? Huh? You want it?” The young Labrador teasingly waved the tennis ball back and forth in front of his dad’s face, faking him out the same way that Alberith had teased him earlier.

“Boy…you better throw it…or I’m gonna put you over my knee…right here…right now,” Alberith panted and huffed.

“Aawww, is big doggy gettin’ cranky?” Oberoth circled the ball in front of his dad’s nose. “Does the ol’ man need…naptime after all this exercise?”

“You’re on…thin…fuckin’…ice, boy.”

“Oooo, I’m so scared!”

“Ah! Hey, c’mere!” Exasperated, Alberith swiped at his son, but Oberoth danced out of the way.

“Hah! You want it? Gotta come ‘n get it!” Oberoth giggled, still waving the ball.

His father lunged again, missing by centimeters. Oberoth backpedaled, laughing.

“Almost!”

“C’mere, you lil’ gremlin!”

The game had shifted from fetch to keep-away—lunge, dodge, lunge, dodge…until Alberith charged.

“Awoooooo!” Oberoth howled with laughter as he bolted, the bulge in his jockstrap bouncing against his thighs as he recklessly tore across the grassy field.

Alberith gave chase immediately. “Awoo woo woo! You’re dead meat when I get you, you brat!” he barked and bellowed as he pounded the sun-baked turf.

“Aaaaah!” Oberoth shrieked, and he ran as fast as he could, still holding the tennis ball in his hand. He wasn’t even thinking about throwing it or playing fetch anymore—he was just happy having his dad chase him like he used to, back in the days of his youth when Alberith would pretend to be a monster, racing after his son because he wanted to gobble him up, he loved him so.

It wasn’t long before they were weaving between groups of sprawled-out, day-drunk pups, Oberoth relying on the erratic speed boosts of youth and Alberith relying on the endurance of rigorous physical training from his days running drills when he was a Marine. He barreled forward with a remarkable amount of stamina and agility for a dog pushing sixty and drunk off his ass, his legs pistoning and his arms windmilling to keep balance, but the older dog gained and lost ground behind his son, who sped up and slowed down, prolonging the chase. Plenty of other pups watched on, some shouting encouragement, others ducking out of the way as the two Labs nearly trampled a beer-pong setup in their path.

Alberith panted and giggled deliriously as he heard the panting and puffing of his dad right behind him. He chanced a quick backwards glance over his shoulder—Alberith was gaining on him again, and his eyes were wild, blazing with competitive drive and genuine adoration alike as he bore down on Oberoth like a freight train.

Oberoth slowed just a fraction, letting Alberith close the distance, then feinted left and zigged right. For a heartbeat, he thought he’d thrown off the older dog again…but then…

“Hnngh!” With a grunt, Alberith leapt forward and locked his arms around his son’s torso in a clumsy but determined grapple.

“Oof!” Oberoth toppled forward and crashed to the grass in a heap with his dad on top of him, and the tennis ball flew from his hand and bounced on the ground, totally forgotten.

“Haha! Gotcha, runt!” Alberith panted proudly. “You…you still can’t…outrun the big dog!”

Dazed, Oberoth managed to flip onto his back and look up at his dad; the older dog was straddling his legs and looming over him, looking crazed but victorious. The two of them panted and gasped, catching their breath, before Oberoth snorted.

“Yeah? I think you’re slowin’ down…took your sweet ass time to catch me, Sir!” he teased, the word “Sir” slathered with just enough sarcasm to make Alberith cock his head to the side and narrow his eyes.

“Oh, you wanna backtalk, huh?” Alberith retorted.

Before Oberoth could wriggle out from under him, Alberith pounced, tickling his son’s ribs, his sides, his abdomen, his navel, his armpits and neck, anywhere and everywhere he could reach.

“Aaahaaahaaah!” Oberoth exploded into uncontrollable laughter, kicking his legs and bucking his hips, doing everything he could to try getting out from under his dad’s merciless tickle torture, but there was no escape.

“Ahaha! No-no-no-no—haahaaha! Noooo! Hahahaha! St-stah-stooooop! Aaaaaahahahaaaah!” Oberoth shrieked and howled, his entire body convulsing under the onslaught. He tried to curl in on himself, but his dad simply pushed in to keep tickling him; he tried to grab at the older Lab’s wrists, but Alberith easily pinned both of Oberoth’s hands above his head with one of his own, leaving the other free to roam and tickle at will. The younger Lab’s jockstrap, already dangerously low on his hips, inched further down as he wriggled and writhed, exposing the fur just above his sheath.

The spectacle attracted the attention of several nearby handlers and pups. A German Shepherd in a leather harness called out approvingly, “Get him!” while a stocky Bulldog laying in the grass laughed and guffawed. Even a couple of gray-muzzled handlers—an Akita and a Beauceron, both decked out in leather while they lounged in their camping chairs under an umbrella—grinned and lifted their drinks in salute.

Alberith kept tickling, not stopping for a second, taking advantage of every vulnerable spot, and Oberoth’s howls turned into wheezy, high-pitched gasps, as his head lolled back onto the turf.

“Aaahaaah! Nooo! I…I can’t! Aaah…this…abuse! Hahahahahaaaaah! Thisisabuse!” he managed to squeal, eyes squeezed shut and tears streaming down his cheeks from laughing too hard.

Alberith growled and actively dug his fingers into his son’s armpits before roughly rubbing and prodding the younger dog’s belly. “S’called discipline, boy! Builds character!” he barked, clearly enjoying himself. “Now tell me what I wanna hear!”

Oberoth gasped and panted. “Aaahaaah! Okay-okay-okay, you win! YOU WIN! Haaahaa! I surrender, Sir!”

“Hehe, tha’s more like it! Goo’ puppy!” Satisfied, Alberith slowed to a halt and released Oberoth’s wrists, then sat back on his haunches, still straddling his son’s thighs. The older Lab was panting, his black fur damp with sweat, and his own jockstrap had shifted enough to pull down on his plump sheath. For a moment, neither of them moved, both catching their breath and just staring at each other with a mix of love and mischief.

“Who’s Daddy’s boy?” Alberith teased, gently patting his son’s belly.

“Arf! Arf! I am!” Oberoth immediately barked, his voice hoarse.

“Tha’s right,” Alberith said sincerely, deeply. He lingered over Oberoth, drinking in the sight of his son for a moment longer, before he slid off to the side to let the younger Lab get up.

Oberoth rolled onto his stomach first, then up to his hands and knees, his tail wagging. He coughed once, then let loose a few playful barks, which got a round of applause and a couple of whistles from the pups and handlers who had been watching him and Alberith. Oberoth then sat back on his heels, giggling as he adjusted the crooked waistband of his jockstrap, pulling it up and letting the elastic snap back into place around his hips.

“That was mean, you know that?” he said with mock indignation, glancing back at his dad.

“Yeah…but you love it, boy,” Alberith retorted gruffly. He reached over, affectionately tousling his son’s ears and rubbing the top of Oberoth’s hooded head…before he lowered his hand and quickly darted it between the boy’s spread legs to swat the bulge of his nuts in his jockstrap.

“Ow! Fuck!” Oberoth yelped, but he was already laughing again, flopping sideways onto the grass and clutching himself.

“Tha’s what you get for makin’ me chase you all over the field, pup,” Alberith quipped, laying on his side and propping himself up on an elbow as he grinned under the navy blue neoprene of his muzzle.

———

The late afternoon sun was drifting closer to the horizon by now, but even though the day was beginning to transition into early evening, it was still hot as ever in the writhing mass of the wrestling pit.

“Ah! Arf! Arf! C’mon, Dad! Lemme…lemme go!” Caleb breathlessly whined, his black fur damp with sweat as he wriggled hard; the rubber wrestling mat squeaked with every desperate movement, but for all his struggling, the young Lab’s head was still locked between Leon’s muscular thighs and his vulnerable nuts were still in his father’s grip.

“Say it, kiddo!” Leon teasingly squeezed Caleb’s balls with just the right amount of pressure, not hard enough to hurt but enough to remind his son who was in charge.

“Nnngh! Ah…ah, fine! I’m your bitch!” the younger Labrador panted in surrender as he submissively relaxed and stopped fighting.

“Hehe, goo’ boy!” Leon released his son’s balls, withdrawing his hand from the tented pouch of Caleb’s sweaty jockstrap. He then swiftly cupped one of his son’s firm glutes, assertively grabbing the mound and giving it a possessive squeeze as he growled, “That ass is mine, you hear me?”

“Arf! Yessir!” Caleb yipped.

Leon unclamped his thighs, disentangling himself from his son, and both dogs slumped as they sat face-to-face on the rubber mat. Their chests heaved as they puffed and panted, each exhale carrying the sour-sweet tang of beer; Caleb’s eyes were sliding in and out of focus, the combination of alcohol and THC taking its toll on his system, and Leon’s head lolled to the side as he dizzily blinked and rolled his eyes, trying to focus on his son.

“Hfff…whew…ah…truce?” Leon asked, puffing.

“Mmm…truce,” Caleb agreed.

“Heh…attaboy…woof…alright, let’s go get ‘nother drink…could use a refresh.”

As the other wrestlers continued their rowdy tussling, Leon and Caleb pulled themselves to their hands and knees and crawled to the edge of the mat, to the grassy sidelines, where they struggled to haul each other upright. Both dogs stumbled and swayed as they got to their feet, they were so intoxicated that standing was starting to take conscious effort. But father and son managed to stay vertical, and they began to lurch away from the wrestling fray, their shoulders bumping as they began drunkenly weaving and trudging side by side along the path that led towards the colorful flags of the vendor stalls and the park’s main lawn.

———

The cloudless, deep azure sky of the afternoon had softened with a glow of gold and amber as the sun had begun sinking, and Alberith and Oberoth idly sprawled on the grass, their chests still rising and falling as they caught their breath. The game had paused; while Alberith lay on his side, Oberoth was on his back and lazily chewing on the spit-soaked tennis ball in his mouth. Around them, other pups still lounged and played on the green space while the music from the festival’s main stage kept pumping away in the background, but Alberith’s attention had turned elsewhere, his eyes resting on his son laying next to him…and the older Labrador’s fingers went for the gold tattoo adorning Oberoth’s shoulder. Drunk as he was, Alberith needed a couple tries to connect with his target, but he managed to make contact with the swell of his boy’s shoulder and bicep…and then he traced a lazy path along the contours of Oberoth’s body, over the defined musculature of his torso, over his chest harness and down along his sternum and abdomen, to the younger dog’s hips…and Alberith didn’t stop, as he languidly hooked his fingers on the elastic waistband of Oberoth’s jockstrap. With a gentle tug, he pulled down on the sweaty pouch just enough to reveal his son’s black-furred sheath and the pink tip of Oberoth’s cock poking out from the rim.

“Mmm…lil’ excited, are we?” Alberith mumbled.

“Rf! Jus…plah,” Oberoth grunted when the tennis ball dropped from his mouth and wetly plopped on the grass beside him. “Heh, jus’ enjoyin’ myself.” He stretched his whole body, arching his back and lifting his hips to push his groin up, exposing himself even more.

“Heh, gonna give you somethin’ to really enjoy.” Alberith’s words slurred as he smirked. “You want Daddy’s load, don’tcha?”

“Woof! Yessir!”

“Tha’smahboy.” Alberith released his grip, letting the elastic snap back into place, before he affectionately patted his son’s bulge. “You gonna be a good pup n’ take everything I give you?”

“Mmhmm!”

The older dog then lifted his hand from the boy’s crotch and grasped one of the straps of Oberoth’s chest harness. “‘N you’re not gonna waste a single drop of it, are you?”

“Mm-mm, no sir! C’n we…now? Pleeeeaaase?” Oberoth begged.

Alberith chuckled. “Mmm, soon, boy…but Daddy needs ‘nother beer first.”

“Oooo, yeah, could go for ‘nother, too,” Oberoth murmured dreamily before he grunted and rolled to sit up.

Alberith joined his son, and both dogs moved to push themselves to their feet, drunkenly wobbling and swaying—where they’d been more coordinated (albeit somewhat haphazard) when they were running earlier, Alberith and Oberoth were beginning to near that stage of inebriation that required more intention and focus when it came to simple tasks like standing and walking. But they managed to steady each other (giggling and snorting as they did so), and both Labs staggered forward with drunken determination, intermittently colliding and separating as they trudged across the grass and toward the kaleidoscope of vendor tents they’d need to pass through in order to get to the main bar tent.

———

Navigating the maze of vendor tents was proving more difficult than expected for Leon and Caleb—both Labs were teetering and stumbling, though they managed to keep themselves upright and moving forward as they jostled and weaved through the throng of equally drunk and energetic pups and handlers perusing the stalls and tables loaded with merchandise. However, Leon was forging ahead at a faster pace; his coordination might’ve been impaired, but he moved with the single-minded focus of a frat boy who was three sheets to the wind and intent on getting to the bar, while alcohol and weed-addled Caleb dawdled like an easily distracted child. There was just so much to see, so much to look at: Now that it was early evening, strings of party lights had sparked into life like garlands of stars and glowing LED lanterns had switched on in and around the tents, making everything a little too bright and saturated, with colors popping like a cartoon to catch the younger Lab’s eye, and the air was thick with the intoxicating scents of sweat, fried food, weed, and the musk of hundreds of canines surging past him on all sides. Every few steps, he stopped and looked around, entranced by everything on offer: paw-shaped cookies, handmade harnesses, bristling racks of pride flags and novelty bandanas, displays of underwear and butt plugs and leather gear galore, and so much more…

Caleb fell further and further behind his dad without even noticing it, his paws dragging in the grass as he drifted from one vendor to the next. One moment he was staring slack-jawed at a spread of glossy neoprene hoods, the next he’d wandered halfway out of the path to inspect a booth hawking beef jerky snacks and whiskey-infused gummy candy.

Although what really caught the younger Lab’s attention was the tent that was absolutely stacked with knotted dildos in every color of the rainbow and beyond, with some that glittered in metallic shades and others that were made to glow in the dark.

“Whoa…holy shiiiit,” Caleb mumbled as he stumbled off the path and veered closer towards the tent for Knotty Boy Toys.

Eyes wide and tail wagging, Caleb headed for the closest table of toys. They ranged in size from the hilariously puny (with some that were so small he could’ve stuffed them in his sheath) to more normal and average proportions, and to the obscenely huge, with some that were so oversized that they had to be intended as jokes or photo props…although Caleb couldn’t stop himself from wondering whether some absolute unit of a dog somewhere actually could take one of the monsters.

He drifted closer, eyes bugging as he looked up and down the lineup of silicone canine cocks…and his gaze landed on a hot pink behemoth sitting on a display plinth. The toy’s shaft was longer and thicker than Caleb’s own forearm, and its exaggerated length terminated in a pointed tip at its top and an eye-wateringly huge knot at its base—the fat and prominent bulb was easily twice as large as a softball, and Caleb’s eyebrows rose under his hood at the sight of it. Next to the dildo’s display plinth, a sign read “Winner of Kennel Club Magazine’s Best Knot Award! Try If You Dare!” in proud bubble letters.

The Labrador’s curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn’t resist: He tried to grip the knot with one hand, but his fingers barely made it halfway around the firm silicone. When he lifted dildo from the display stand, he guffawed at its unexpected heft—the thing must have weighed at least ten pounds.

“What do you think, puppy?” the vendor, a bulky Boerboel wearing only a kilt, called over. “Wanna take that monster for a ride?”

“Hehe, I dunno…might be too big for me,” Caleb giggled as he replaced the toy on its display pedestal.

“Heh, you never know. Open mind, open hole,” the vendor suggestively chuckled with a wink. “Let me know if you have any questions about anything you see!”

Caleb carefully set the massive toy back on its display stand, and then drifted deeper into the tent, wandering from table to table. If he weren’t so wasted he would’ve been better about keeping his hands to himself, but he picked up dildo after dildo, squeezing and testing each one he passed while the festival’s chaos faded to background noise…the din of barking, laughter, and music, the constant thumping of paws on grass, the heat of the day and the bodies next to him…

“Cal! CAL!”

His ears shot up at the sound of his name. With a start, Caleb jerked his gaze away from the collection of sleeves and strokers he'd been examining, and he twisted around on the spot to see Leon several tents away; his dad was standing by a display of latex bodysuits (which gleamed under the party lights above), and his arm was raised high, waving lazily.

“C’mon, kiddo!”

Caleb dashed out of the tent and over to his dad. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“Heh, s’all good, kiddo. Think I oughta buy you a leash while we’re here, though,” Leon drunkenly slurred as he ruffled Caleb’s ears. He resumed walking with his son by his side as he added, “Or maybe one of them rect…retac…extension kinds—lets you wander but keeps you from gettin’ lost.”

Caleb snorted at his dad’s suggestion, but within seconds he was falling back to trailing in Leon’s wake…and his steps began to slow again as his head turned and twisted to take in more of the scenery of the vendor tents, pups, and handlers all around him.

———

Oberoth and Alberith staggered and lurched along the path between the vendor tents, following the flow of pups and handlers through the labyrinth of pop-up booths and stalls illuminated by the waning sun and the lanterns and string lights festooned all over. The festival’s vendor village had become a whirling vortex of sound and color and smell, and every tent had something different to offer, from art prints to pup accessories and bondage gear and sex paraphernalia as far as the eye could see. To Alberith, the crush of pups filling the darkening festival grounds were just obstacles to sidestep or barrel past on his way to the bar, but the sensory experience was almost getting overwhelming for Oberoth, whose head turned and nose twitched at every new distraction—pups prancing around in everything from handmade leather harnesses to nothing but their fur, the aroma of hot dogs and burnt sugar, the skunky smell of weed, the flags and collars and posters and dog-themed toys on offer…the younger Lab almost didn’t know where to look, and more than once he stumbled into another pup because he wasn’t watching where he was going.

“Mmm…c’mon, boy, keep up…let’s keep it movin’,” Alberith growled at intervals with the affectionate, exasperated air of someone who’d been saying these exact words since Oberoth could walk.

Although little by little, Oberoth’s staggering steps faltered and slowed. He was just a few feet behind his dad…then there were five people separating him and Alberith…and as the world dizzily spun around him, Oberoth found himself being magnetically drawn to a tent for Package Theory.

“Ooooo…woof,” Oberoth softly barked to himself at the sight of all the thongs, jockstraps, and skimpy-as-hell underwear he’d stumbled across.

The stall was decked out like a pride parade float, with glittery banners, rainbow flags, and suggestively-posed mannequins wearing everything from briefs and booty shorts to G-strings and C-strings. A Carolina dog in a mesh tank top was working the counter while more pups were crowding around racks and displays, and Oberoth’s eyes went wide as he ogled the closest selections: silky, bulge-hugging thongs, neon-yellow briefs with peekaboo cutouts, jockstraps with countless different prints and ranging from fishnet to leather and everything in between, and so much more. Oberoth fondled a pair of flimsy, cerulean micro briefs with diamonds printed all over them, staring at the contour pouch that looked like it would be a tight fit for his sheath and balls…and wondering just how good his bulge would look in such a figure-hugging garment. He didn’t know how long he stood there, just turning the underwear over in his hands again and again…long enough for the sounds of the festival to start receding into just white noise…he wasn’t thinking about his dad or getting to the bar, he just really liked that pair of briefs…maybe he could try them on…

“Oh!” Oberoth jolted in surprise when someone nudged him in the side.

“You’d look real good in those! And we’re running a sale on them, buy one get one half-off,” the Carolina dog vendor said.

“Oh! Right on!” Oberoth managed to blurt out.

The Carolina dog grinned flirtatiously. “You can try it on right here if you want, puppy—I’d be happy to check the fit for you.”

Oberoth’s heart skipped a beat; the exhibitionist in him would’ve loved to strip in front of a stranger to try on some new underwear…and maybe the Carolina dog could inspect his goods while he was at it…but before he could say or do anything—

“Obi! Hey! OBI!”

His head jerked when he heard Alberith calling, and he caught sight of his dad standing a couple tents away and waving to get his attention.

Oberoth’s foggy brain took a second to process before he haphazardly flung the underwear back onto the rack. “Ah, thanks—gotta go!”

The young Lab took off running as fast as he could to rejoin Alberith, and he caught up to his dad in front of a tent selling pins and stickers.

“Woof! Hoo, sorry!” Oberoth panted, wagging his tail.

Alberith chuckled as he patted his son on the back. “Heh, swear you need a leash, boy. Gonna keep you on a short one, too.”

“Mm! Wouldn’t hear me complaining.”

Alberith snorted and gave Oberoth a playful shove, making the younger Lab stumble. “Heh, I better not, pup.”

But even as they resumed walking, Oberoth’s attention began to wander again, and it didn’t take long for him to start falling behind. His pace slowed and his neck craned to follow a pair of Dobermans in matching harnesses…then a Husky with some cotton candy going into a tent selling bondage gear, from ropes and chains to cuffs and gags and everything in between…and Alberith was getting farther and farther away, still heading for the bar and fading into the crowd in front of Oberoth…

———

Caleb blinked, and suddenly found himself transfixed by two pups—a Boxer with brindle fur and a spotted Dalmatian—locked in a passionate embrace inside a photography tent. The photographer circled them, camera clicking rapidly and the flash blinking like a strobe light as the pair knelt before a green screen backdrop. Their hooded heads tilted together as they heatedly made out, their tongues visibly slipping through the open muzzles of their hoods and sloppily lapping at one another while their paws freely groped each others’ crotches, waists, shoulders, and backs…

Caleb’s world spun when he finally tore his gaze away and refocused on the swirling, swarming crowd surging past him and the vendor tents, under the strands of party lights hanging overhead…and it took him a second to process the fact that he’d lost track of his dad completely. Leon was nowhere in sight.

But Caleb was too far gone to panic—he was having too good of a time to worry about catching up to his father, and he was too wasted to even really consider doing anything more than just going with the flow…which was carrying the young Lab forward on his feet without him consciously realizing it…and somehow he found himself drifting along with the current of bodies until he washed up at the entrance of King’s Emporium, a giant tent that house a veritable treasure trove of pup-related gear.

Collars, harnesses, leashes, printed shirts and tanks, underwear, chew toys, plushies, hoods, and more as far as the eye could see—Caleb felt like he’d stumbled across a candy shop, and he didn’t hesitate to pad right in and start meandering among the tables and racks along with all the other pups who were browsing the merchandise.

As the young Lab checked out the racks of hoods—and found a hunter-green one that matched his own, without the telltale signs of wear and sweat—he hazily tried to think of that advice for getting lost he remembered hearing years and years ago…what was it? Stay put? Yeah, that’s what he should do, just hang around this tent and wait for Leon to find him on his way back from the bar…it wouldn’t be too hard to spot his dad, a big black Lab in a blue hood…

———

The party in the bar tent was in full swing. As dusk had begun to slowly settle outside, the interior space of the big top was ablaze with strings of lights, lanterns, and multicolored LEDs; the music from the main stage at the south end of Baxter Park’s central lawn flooded in, and bodies pressed together in the crowded tent as dogs leaned into each other, drinking, dancing, sitting, standing, shouting, barking, and laughing together in an alcohol-fueled frenzy. Behind the bar’s long counter, a team of lean coonhounds moved in concert to pull pints from taps, crack open cans of beer and seltzer, shake cocktails, pour shots, and collect tips from their thirsty patrons (and refuse service to pups wearing orange wristbands marking them as under legal drinking age).

“Alright, made it!” Leon proudly said. “Whatcha want, Cal? Huh…Cal?”

In his drunken stupor, Leon swiveled his head, looking to the left…then to the right…he turned on the spot, trying to find Caleb, but all he saw was a continuous tide of strangers flowing in and out of the tent, some of them jockeying for space at the bar and others heading back toward the main lawn or the vendor stalls.

“Heh…ah, alright, kiddo,” Leon snorted to himself.

Any momentary concern he would’ve had simply dissolved—Leon could’ve turned back and searched for his son, but he was already here, and he was craving a drink or two…or maybe three. Besides, Caleb was an adult—he’d be fine on his own for a bit. The boy probably got distracted by something shiny in one of the vendor tents…or maybe he’d wandered off with a responsible and authoritative handler who was keeping an eye on him. Leon had seen his son’s tail wag and head turn throughout the day whenever he spotted a particularly handsome leather daddy; Caleb wasn’t subtle at all when he was sober, and even less so when he was drunk or stoned.

And in the meantime, Leon figured he could post up at the bar, knock back a few drinks, grab something to go that he could sneak to Caleb, and then swing back through the vendor area to track the boy down. He’d just have to keep an eye out for a black Lab wearing a hunter green hood and matching jockstrap, how hard could that be?

With that, Leon shouldered his way through the crowd, bumping past little clusters and packs and sidestepping other scantily-clad pups and handlers who were between him and the bar. A pair of Labs—yellow and chocolate, and wearing matching collars—swayed together to the music as they made out, oblivious to anyone passing by…a group of five pups were howling with laughter as they took turns picking up shot glasses from the ground with their teeth…Leon passed by a stocky Schnauzer in full leather regalia who was talking animatedly with a dingo…and then, just as he spotted an opening at the bar, a young and lithe wolf pressed against the Labrador on purpose, one hand sliding not-so-innocently over his groin.

“Woof, Daddy!” the wolf giggled, his slender fingers lingering just above the waistband of Leon’s jockstrap—the boy couldn’t have been older than Caleb, judging by the look of him and the orange wristband he wore, and every centimeter of his pup hood was covered in a bright rainbow of sparkling rhinestones.

“Heh, thanks, boy,” Leon heard himself slur genially. He patted the wolf on the head and swayed slightly as he eased around the pup—if he weren’t so focused on getting to the bar, maybe he would’ve been interested in the youngster, but Leon had a mighty thirst.

Leaving the wolf behind with the rest of the partying crowd, Leon finally settled on the unoccupied plastic barstool he’d spotted, and he raised a heavy paw to flag one of the bartenders.

———

Oberoth wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he’d wound up in front of an obedience training demonstration in one of the vendor tents. A leather-clad, muscular, and dominant Rottweiler handler was leading a stocky Pit Bull in a bubblegum pink hood and jockstrap through commands, from heeling to sitting to playing dead to balancing a treat on his nose to shamelessly presenting his ass to the crowd. When he sat up again, the pup’s tongue hung out of his muzzle as he barked on cue, and his wagging tail thumped against the ground.

“Good boy,” the Rottweiler praised. “Now hump!”

The Pit Bull enthusiastically complied, latching onto his handler’s leg and thrusting hard and fast.

“And…freeze!”

The pup halted immediately, looking up at the Rottweiler expectantly.

“With my 12-week program, even the most disobedient pup can learn to be a good boy!” the Rottweiler called to the crowd. “I use a discipline-focused approach to break him down and rebuild…”

Oberoth’s attention wandered again, and when he turned his head to survey the throng of dogs walking through the vendor area, he swayed on the spot and blinked slowly. The festival grounds had somehow filled with twice as many dogs as before, their bodies weaving between the vendor tents in dizzying patterns. Oberoth squinted against the fading light from the setting sun and the festival string lights and lanterns overhead, trying to focus…and he turned in a slow circle, dazed and disoriented as he scanned the crowd…before he finally registered the fact that Alberith had vanished without a trace. There was no way to see his dad, no way to track him down…

“Huh…” Oberoth grunted to himself, unconcerned; he shrugged, comfortably inebriated and not worried at all about finding Alberith. He was just having too good of a time enjoying the festival…and besides, the old man had probably reached the bar already…maybe he’d bump into his dad later.

For now, Oberoth was content to just surrender to the current of the crowd and drift along from stall to stall…until he found himself standing in front of King’s Emporium, an enormous tent filled to the brim with collars, harnesses, hoods, bandanas, chew toys, and every other piece of pup gear imaginable.

“Ooooo…” Intrigued, Oberoth traipsed under the awning and started perusing the merchandise, checking out some of the shirts printed with cheeky cartoon pups and slogans that ranged from “Bad Boy In Training” to “My Daddy Will Hear About This”.

As the young Lab drifted from the shirts to the racks of harnesses—and found a hunter-green and black one that was similar to the one on his own chest—he dimly recalled the survivalist tip his dad had shared with him a long time ago, that it was important not to move…yeah, he shouldn’t move, he should just stay in this tent and hang tight…Alberith would be back for him eventually on his way back from the bar. It wouldn’t be too hard to spot his dad—a black Labrador wearing a blue hood, how many of those could there be?

———

By the time Alberith made it to the bar tent, the party under the big top had become a debaucherous spectacle—hundreds of dogs in various stages of intoxication and undress were in the midst of drinking games and happily (albeit lewdly) dancing to the music that carried all the way over from the festival’s main stage. The air was thick with the mingled scents of beer, sweat, and abandon; everywhere Alberith looked, he saw muzzles pressed against ears in shouted conversations, and drinks sloshed in plastic cups while arms draped around shoulders, chests pressed close to one another, hips swayed, rumps ground against crotches, and tails wagged as pups and handlers alike chugged their beers, pounded shots, and sipped their cocktails.

“Fuckin’ finally! You wannanother G n’ T, Obi? Ah…Obi?” Suddenly realizing that Oberoth was no longer with him, Alberith blinked through the haze and peered around the packed tent, scanning the crowd…but there was neither hide nor hair of his son.

“Goddamnit, boy…eh, fuckit,” Alberith chuckled, shaking his head.

Already drunk as a skunk, the old Labrador was numb to any parental concern he would’ve felt when sober. Oberoth was probably drooling over some overpriced chew toys or had wandered off with a new friend—the boy was pushing 30, for crying out loud, he could handle himself just fine for a little while. Besides, Alberith had finally made it to the bar, he wasn’t about to turn around and start searching high and low for his son…not without a few more cold drinks in him first. Yeah, that would be a good plan, he could settle at the counter and take his time, eventually grab something to go for Oberoth, and then head back to the vendor tents to see if he could find the little whelp. His son wouldn’t be too hard to spot—a black Lab in a hunter green hood and matching jockstrap would stand out even to Alberith’s beer-blurred vision.

Confident in his plan, Alberith marched into the mass of canines, his broad shoulders creating just enough space to slip between clusters of revelers. The cacophony washed over him as he headed for the bar…he heard howls and laughter while the thump of the music’s bassline vibrated through his chest…he passed by a trio of Dobermans in matching red harnesses grinding on one another in a writhing knot of tongues and paws…a Bulldog handler had a coyote pup stuffed face-first in his armpit…a few steps away a Great Dane was feeding jello shots from his palm to a kneeling German Shepherd…and just when Alberith had nearly reached the promised land of an empty barstool, something sparkly blocked his path: A slender young wolf decked out in a hood studded with rhinestones in all the colors of the rainbow. The wolf sidled up close to Alberith, his hood catching the light like a glittering disco ball, and he slid his paws along the Labrador’s broad and muscular sides.

“Hey! Woof again, big guy!” the younger canine shouted over the music.

“Huh? Oh, thanks, kid…maybe ‘nother time,” Alberith grunted as he pivoted around the wolf, his thirst for a cold beer overpowering his desire to stick his dick into a hot and wet hole (at least for the moment).

He made it to the bar just as a Saint Bernard accidentally spilled a full pint of beer on the counter—a coonhound bartender swept in without missing a beat and began sopping up the mess with a rag.

“Be right with you, boss!” the bartender called to Alberith, who lowered himself onto the plastic barstool, which creaked beneath his weight.

———

There was no concept of time for Caleb or Oberoth as they separately wandered around the King’s Emporium tent—the dizzying array of pup-themed merchandise blurred into a never-ending riot of oversaturated colors, leather, neoprene, shirts, underwear, tennis balls, chew toys, and more. On one side of the tent, Caleb meandered from one rack to another, idly pawing over any and all underwear that caught his eye. In a far corner, Oberoth drunkenly drifted from table to table, squinting to focus on the hoods, armbands, and accessories that gleamed under the tent’s multi-colored and strobing LEDs.

“Head’s up, pups! We’re running a free shit special!” the Malinois running King's Emporium announced—his muscular arms strained as he hoisted a giant plastic tote box overhead and ferried it through the tent, weaving between customers.

Caleb’s ears perked up as he quickly looked over from where he stood fingering a silk thong patterned with tiny bones.

On the opposite side of the tent, Oberoth’s heavy eyes lifted from the stack of printed T-shirts he’d started examining, their slogans and designs running together in a multicolored smear in his vision.

“It’s all perfectly good shit! We’ve got leashes, we’ve got collars, we’ve got bandanas and shirts and undies…” The vendor slammed the container onto a folding table that had been set up next to the tent’s entrance. “All of it needs to go, and you’d be doing me a solid taking some home with you!”

An immediate stampede of pups rushed for the box, and the whole crowd began pawing through the tote in a frenzy.

Wasted as he was, Caleb fuzzily promised himself to check the box before leaving…but the thought evaporated as quickly as it came when another thong caught his eye.

Oberoth managed a little better, as he actually took three wobbly steps toward the tent’s entrance…but a previously unnoticed display of pup-themed stickers derailed him completely, and he quickly forgot all about the box and its free contents.

———

For both Leon and Alberith, one drink at the bar quickly turned into two, then three…and soon neither of them cared about counting what came after three.

Leon had started with a couple quick shots of whiskey; the burn of it would’ve had him coughing with watering eyes back in college, but at his age and considering how drunk he already was, it was like drinking water.

Four seats away, Alberith had nursed a generous double pour of the same caramel-colored liquor, sipping on it until his cup was bone dry—it was bottom-shelf whiskey, but he was too far gone to genuinely care about the quality, and he was happy just having something to wet his whistle.

Without being aware of each other’s pace, both dogs switched from whiskey to beer at almost the same time—Alberith’s pint of cloudy, honey-colored pale ale was served first, and then a pint of golden lager appeared in front of Leon. The Labradors sitting on the stools gulped and chugged, filling the tanks of their bellies while they gave themselves frothy foam mustaches on their muzzles.

Around Leon and Alberith, the bar grew wilder—the lights above them flashed and strobed in energetic yet hypnotic patterns, shifting from reds to greens to pinks to purples to blues in time with the music from the festival’s main stage while the pups filling the tent danced in a sloppy and swirling frenzy. For both Labradors, the world spun at a disorienting angle and time seemed to randomly skip and smear…had it only been a few minutes since either of them sat down at the bar, or had it been an hour? It didn’t really matter, they were just enjoying themselves while the air became thicker with the alluring scents of sweat and beer and musk…scents that got both dogs wagging their tails and tenting more in their blue jockstraps…

“Get you another, big guy?” called one of the coonhounds behind the bar, nodding at the shrinking beer in Alberith’s cup.

The black Labrador tipped back the last gulp and then held his empty cup aloft, his hand wavering. “Ngh, yeah! Keep ‘em comin’ bud!”

At one point, Leon heard a series of sharp smacks and playful yelps—he swung his head around to see a mutt in a black-and-yellow hood bent over, on the receiving end of a communal spanking from a small pack of his friends who were taking turns to slap his rear.

“Hell yeah, boys! Gedafferit!” he drunkenly slurred as he raised his cup in salute…before he drained the last of his lager…and belched. “Urrrup! Woof…’nother lager, please!”

Cups emptied and refilled…sexy pups—some of them still wearing some semblance of clothing, others fully naked and baring everything shamelessly—came and went in a whirling eddy of activity…and cocks thickened and stiffened further within the plump and full pouches of Alberith’s navy blue and Leon’s cobalt jockstraps…

“Awooooo!”

The howling started with one pup…

“Awoooo!”

“Woowoowooooo!”

“Awoooooo!”

The rolling chorus grew to fill the tent, to the point that both Leon and Alberith joined in; drunk and delighted, they tilted their heads back and howled along with the pack at the bar.

“Awooooooo!”

———

“Duuude!”

Dazed and dizzy, Oberoth looked up from the silicone chew toy he’d been experimentally squeezing in his hands—right next to him was a completely naked German Shepherd who had just pulled on a red leather chest harness and was excitedly checking himself out.

“Whatcha think?” he asked Oberoth—the German Shepherd’s tail was wagging behind him so hard that his hips wiggled and made his exposed balls and sheath—with the pink, pointed tip of his cock poking out of it—sway back and forth.

“Mmph—me? S’lookin’ good, man,” Oberoth mumbled, nodding.

“Thanks! Aaah, it’s a perfect fit, too!” the German Shepherd barked happily, testing the straps across his chest.

Oberoth managed a lopsided grin beneath his neoprene muzzle, and his gaze drifted away from the shepherd to a display of collars…his world was tilting precariously, but he stayed standing…and then something across the tent snagged his attention…no, wait, that couldn’t be…

In that same instant, twenty feet away, Caleb blinked rapidly—there was so much disorienting movement and light and color in the tent, but he’d spotted a figure beside a naked German Shepherd…a black Lab, just like him…wait, was he looking in a mirror? No…

Both Labradors stared at each other from across the tent, frozen as they struggled to process the fact that neither of them were looking at a reflection…and then dimly recognized how uncannily similar they were.

Caleb was only an inch shorter and Oberoth was mildly leaner, but they could have been twins based on their physiques and postures alone; their hoods were identical, right down to the same patterns and the same shade of hunter green on black; and the hunter green jockstraps they wore were virtually copies of each other, save for minor variations in the widths of their waistbands and the style of black piping on the pouches of their bulging crotches. The collars around their necks were indistinguishable from one another, and even their black leather bulldog harnesses with green piping were the same, except for the fact that Oberoth’s straps were a few millimeters thinner and Caleb’s rode higher on his chest. And where Oberoth sported a gold tattoo on his shoulder and a green armband around his bicep, Caleb was unmarked and wore only a neon orange band around his wrist, signifying that he was under 21.

As Oberoth and Caleb vaguely registered how alike they were, their tails began to wag in slow, uncertain arcs…the moment stretched…and then…

“Free glowsticks!” A short Beagle in a black hood and black thong and covered in glowing body paint was carrying an armload of plastic tubes connected into bracelets and necklaces. “Get ‘em while they’re hot!”

Before Caleb or Oberoth could process what was happening, the customers in the tent surged, sweeping them up in the current…and both Labs soon found themselves adorned with neon circlets around their wrists and necks as they drifted apart and wandered aimlessly around the tent yet again.

———

A constant flow of fur and leather rotated through the bar as dogs came and went while Leon and Alberith kept knocking back beer after beer after beer. Without either noticing, the buffer zone between them emptied and refilled, emptied and refilled…and then, somehow, all four stools between them were empty at the same time.

Leon, with his cup of lager raised halfway to his lips, blearily stared when his alcohol-glazed eyes landed on what he thought was his own reflection…

Alberith was chugging his pale ale, but over the rim of his cup, he registered the dog looking at him…after one more long swallow, he lowered his cup, panting, and he cocked his head for the briefest of moments, uncertain—was he looking in a mirror?

No, there were differences between them that slowly came into focus the longer they looked at one another; both Labradors had similar builds, although where Leon was a little more on the beefy side and carried his bulk like a linebacker, Alberith’s broad musculature was more defined and toned…Alberith’s bare chest had a spot of white fur while Leon’s was still fully black…and Alberith vaguely recalled that his hood and jockstrap were a darker shade of blue than the cobalt he saw on Leon…

But before both dogs could fully register what they saw, a tall Mastiff outfitted with a magenta hood and matching jockstrap that barely contained his impressive bulge heavily plopped down on one of the stools between Leon and Alberith, blocking them from each others’ view.

“What can I get for ya?” one of the coonhound bartenders shouted over the thumping bassline.

“Tequila shots for everybody here!” the Mastiff boomed back, pulling a thick roll of cash from the pouch of his jockstrap.

———

“Hic! Urrrrup!”

A wet hiccup followed by a loud and hops-flavored belch bubbled up from Leon’s throat as he weaved between bodies, his half-finished cup of lager sloshing as he held it. The tequila shot he held in his other paw remained intact—somehow, in the chaos of the bar tent, he’d ended up with two shots, and after knocking back one for himself, Leon had taken his second shot to go for Caleb…now if only he could find his boy…

The lanterns and string lights that hung above the vendor tents and inside the stalls had transformed the whole area into a disorienting carnival, hypnotic and colorful. Everywhere Leon looked, he saw pups and handlers swirling around him, wagging their tails…kissing…groping each other…barking…there was so much going on it was almost impossible to keep track of who was doing what and where. His world tilted sideways as he lurched from tent to tent, sporadically poking his head in, squinting to scan the clusters and packs of dogs…

There was a black Lab, but he was wearing a yellow hood, not the green that Caleb was wearing…and another Lab five tents down, but he was completely naked except for a rainbow bandana around his neck…hot, but not his boy…Leon kept walking…he drained the remains of his beer and managed to toss his empty cup in a trash can, but he held onto the tequila shot…it was vital that he deliver it…oh, wait, there! A black Labrador wearing a hunter green and black hood with a matching jockstrap and harness, and he was holding up a shirt in some empire…no, reporium…no, emporium…

“Mmmph…there’s mahboy!” Leon slurred when he heavily slung himself against the younger Labrador’s back, clumsily embracing him from behind.

“Woof! Hehehe, hey there, Dad,” the dog drunkenly grunted as he staggered under Leon’s weight.

Leon raised the plastic shot glass to the Labrador’s muzzle, and he huffed, “Open up, kiddo—Daddy’s got you somethin’.”

Oberoth tilted his head back and parted his lips obediently, accepting the liquor as it burned down his throat.

“Hehe, attaboy,” Leon murmured in Oberoth’s ear as he pressed his hips against the Lab’s backside, grinding the firm bulge of his arousal between the younger dog’s glutes. At the same time, his free hand wandered down to the front of Oberoth’s jockstrap—Leon took hold of the boy’s cock and balls, fondling them through the fabric and feeling the stiffening shaft within. “Mmmngh…you wanna have some fun with the big dog, son?”

“Ah…fuck yes, sir…”

“Heh, that’s what I wanna hear…” The empty shot glass tumbled from Leon’s fingers and dropped to the ground as he tugged at Oberoth’s harness, pulling him away from the table. “Nnf…c’mon, puppy…we need some dad n’ son bonding time…”

“Mmf, yessir! Right…right here?” Oberoth asked, swaying as Leon pushed and steered him in a stumbling trot towards the tent’s exit.

“Nah, wanna take mahboy to the playground.”

“Ooh, wait-wait-wait! Box fulla free stuff right there!” Oberoth excitedly pointed at the plastic bin filled with accessories that had been set out earlier; despite the initial rush of pups who had grabbed as much free merchandise as they could put their paws on, there were still plenty of leashes, underwear, collars, apparel, and other accessories to choose from.

“Yeah? Huh…oh, yeah, this’s good,” Leon grunted as he grabbed the first leash he saw from the box, one of many simple black nylon leads. Without further ado, he spun Oberoth around to face him and clipped the leash to the boy’s collar…and then he paused when he thought he saw what looked like a gold tattoo on the young Labrador’s shoulder. “Heh, damn, kiddo, whatchu get into?”

“Huh?” Oberoth failed to register what Leon meant, as well as the fact that the older Labrador’s hood was legitimately cobalt instead of navy; to his drunk and bleary vision, the different shade of blue was just a trick of the light…

“Mmph, forget it—let’s move, hehe.” Leon tugged the leash, and Oberoth stumbled along, mindlessly following in his wake through the crowd of pups…the world was spinning in a chaotic swirl of color and noise again now that he was out of the tent, with howls and barks filling the air…and both Oberoth and Leon were too wasted and too riled up to do anything but go with the flow and head towards the park’s playground…

———

———

“Obi!”

Alberith barked as loud as he could, but his voice was lost in the din of barks and thumping music.

“C’mon, Obi…shouldn’t be this—hic!—damn hard to find ya,” he grumbled as he haphazardly zigzagged through the crowd swarming around the vendor tents. He’d polished off his last pale ale before leaving the bar, but he was still carrying the plastic shot glass of tequila, doing his best not to spill any—it wasn’t his liquor of choice, but he’d brought it all the way from the bar tent, determined to pawn it off on Oberoth rather than let it go to waste.

Although he’d have to track down the little bastard, which was getting increasingly more frustrating. The festival’s crowd had swelled since sunset, becoming a writhing mass of hoods and harnesses everywhere he looked, with pups dancing…grinding…humping…yeah, lots of pups were humping in between the vendor tents, and Alberith’s jockstrap became uncomfortably tight with every glimpse of frenzied movement he saw. He wanted his boy, wanted to sink his cock in Oberoth’s hot, wet muzzle, and knot it, wanted to pump his seed down his son’s throat…fuck, he had to find his pup pronto…

Alberith poked his head into the tents every now and then, surveying the dogs within…there was a black Lab, but he was wearing a black and white hood and a rainbow flag as a cape, not Oberoth’s hunter green…a few tents away, there was another Lab, but he was older, decked out in leather, and busy flogging a Dalmatian who was tied to a rack…fun, but not the kind of activity that Alberith was looking for, and that leather daddy wasn’t his boy, either…Alberith kept going, weaving and bobbing along with the crowd, his tented crotch wagging in front of him…ah, there! A black Labrador wearing a hunter green and black hood with a matching jockstrap and harness, and he was examining a collar in some shop that Alberith was too drunk to even try mentally pronouncing…

“Whoof…goddamn, boy, been lookin’ everywhere for you!” Alberith slurred when he grabbed the younger Labrador from behind in a sloppy bear hug.

“Hff! Arf! Was wonderin’ when you’d get here, Dad,” the dog drunkenly barked as he happily wriggled in Alberith’s embrace.

Alberith pressed the plastic shot glass to the Labrador’s lips. “Open wide, pup.”

“Yess-aagh…” Caleb gurgled when Alberith tipped the shot glass into his open mouth, and he spluttered as the tequila flowed down his throat.

“That’s it…drink it all down,” Alberith murmured, his hot breath tickling Caleb’s ear as he pressed against his back. His hips rolled against the younger dog’s rear, rutting Caleb’s butt, while his free hand slipped down into the boy’s jockstrap—Alberith wrapped his paw around the stiff cock he found in there and teasingly squeezed the shaft, earning a needy throb from Caleb. “Got somethin’ else for you to drink, too…gonna be a good boy for your old man tonight?”

“Ah…yessir…”

“Attaboy.” Alberith dropped the empty shot glass without another thought, and he dominantly grabbed Caleb’s chest harness, pulling him away from the table. “Think we need some quality time right fuckin’ now, puppy…”

“Mm, damn right…where we goin’?” Caleb asked as Alberith dragged him towards the tent’s exit.

“Where all good pups wanna play—gotta be a good spot on the playground for us.”

“Hell yeah! Ooh, wait, hol’up! Free stuff!” Caleb’s tail wagged as he pointed at the plastic bin, still holding a decent selection of free merchandise.

“Yeah? Mmm…oh, heh, perfect…” Alberith snatched one of the black nylon leashes from the box and quickly clipped it to Caleb’s collar, too far gone and in such a hurry that he didn’t even notice that the dog in front of him had a thicker build than his son and was missing a gold tattoo on his shoulder.

“Woof! Heh, c’mon, le’s go, le’s go!” Caleb whined impatiently, his eyes half-lidded—fucked up as he was on the weed gummies and alcohol in his system, he completely missed the military tattoo emblazoned on Alberith’s chest and the darker shade of blue of the older dog’s hood and jockstrap.

“Heh, you want it bad, don’t you, runt?” Alberith growled. “C’mon, Daddy’s gonna feed you good.”

Alberith yanked the leash hard, and Caleb stumbled forward to keep pace with the older dog who pulled him along through the festival grounds. Outside the tent, glowsticks and string lights illuminated the night while the music coming from the main stage mingled in the air with the chorus of barks and howls…and Alberith and Caleb staggered onward toward to the playground, their inhibitions completely gone and their bodies moving on pure, horned up instinct…

———

Time seemed to skip for Oberoth—one moment, he was being hauled through the crowd, past the vendor stalls…then he was tripping along behind the large black Labrador leading him past two groups of naked pups in a tug-of-war with a massive rope…there was barking and howling as a handler disciplined a puppy somewhere…he thought he heard spanking, too…then he was walking over grass somewhere…it felt good under his bare paws…and the light from the lanterns hung all over the park blurred against the darkening sky…and then Oberoth was almost tripping over himself on the soft rubber surface of the playground…no, wait, he was spinning…

“Heh, c’mon kiddo,” Leon paternally clucked at the pup who was lackadaisically stumbling behind him.

He yanked on the leash clipped to Oberoth’s collar, pulling him along more urgently now that they’d reached the playground, which still had plenty of pups loitering around while others played and climbed—some dangled from the monkey bars, others spun slowly on the merry-go-round, and a few pumped their legs on swings while others relaxed in one of the net hammocks. Under the multi-tiered decks of the play fort, however, pairs of dogs had found the perfect spot for more intimate play; two were rolling together in the dark on the ground, paws exploring each other’s bodies as they passionately kissed. Nearby, another couple was rutting frantically in missionary, huffing and panting in between moans and grunts…and it seemed they’d abandoned a half-full bottle of lube, which had rolled away from them and now lay directly in Leon’s path.

As drunk as he was, the old Labrador had enough presence of mind to stoop down and grab the bottle as he passed, and he continued onward, pulling Oberoth around the playground’s main fort, trying to find the perfect spot…and there, the playground’s geodesic climber had nobody on it or under it. Perfect.

“Arright, kiddo; gedinthere,” Leon slurred, grabbing Oberoth by the collar and pushing him forward.

The young Labrador stumbled and fell forward onto his hands and knees and awkwardly clambered into the dome, with Leon following, squeezing through the tight space between the bars. Oberoth kept crawling until he was right in the middle of the space, and when he came to a halt, he needed no prompting to raise his tail as he spread his legs. There, nestled between the firm mounds of his glutes, was the vulnerable, tight pucker of his hole—he clenched and relaxed in anticipation, and his cock twitched and flexed against the fabric of his jockstrap…and then…

Schlick-schlick-schlick…

“Aaah…fuck, Dad,” Oberoth groaned, arching his back to lift his hips.

Settled on his knees behind the young Lab, Leon circled his lube-slicked fingers around the quivering rim of Oberoth’s ass, coating it until it glistened in the light of the lanterns hanging around the playground…and then, when he pressed two fingers inward, Oberoth’s body yielded immediately, swallowing his digits hungrily, desperately. Leon sank his fingers to the base and twisted them in a corkscrew motion, smearing the slimy fluid around to evenly lubricate the boy’s raw and tender flesh.

“Fuck…you’re so hot…’n so tight, kiddo,” Leon mused as he skillfully rolled his fingers around and spread them apart…then rubbed back and forth on that firm, responsive bundle of nerves that made Oberoth tremble and tilt his head back with pleasure.

“Aaah! Ha, fuck…fuck, please,” Oberoth panted as Leon teasingly milked his prostate; his stiff and throbbing arousal pushed hard against his jockstrap, and his precum had begun to soak through the fabric, forming a wet spot around the tip of his cock.

“Fuck yeah…tha’smahboy’s tight lil’ ass…all mine,” Leon rumbled lustfully as he fingered Oberoth.

Oberoth moaned at the penetration, hazily thinking all the while that it was Alberith who was fingering him, that it was his own father who was so expertly pumping his fingers back and forth, stretching him open, getting his body begging for more…and then, when Leon withdrew his fingers with a lewd squelch, Oberoth whimpered at the sudden emptiness.

“Ngh…pleeeease, Daddy,” he whimpered.

“Don’t you worry, kiddo…Daddy’s gonna breed you good,” Leon huffed as he hurriedly pushed the waistband of his jockstrap down around his thighs.

The older Labrador’s erection sprang free from its confines, his canine shaft thick and bulging as it swelled and then tapered to its pointed and glistening tip; his knot was still trapped in his sheath, creating a visible bulge against the stretched skin and fur, but he didn’t make a move to pop it free. That would happen soon enough without his help, and he was more preoccupied with squirting another generous dollop of lube into his palm and stroking himself—with a wet schlick-schlick-schlick, Leon fisted his cock, pumping his paw up and down to grease up his arousal.

“C’mon, old man…gimme…pleeeeaaaase,” Oberoth whined, seductively wagging his hips from side to side.

“Fuck yeah…you’re ‘boutta get…’xactly whatchu need, son,” Leon huskily rasped.

He shuffled in closer, scooting on his knees to get right up behind Oberoth, ready to mount him; he took hold of the younger Lab’s hip with his left hand, and he used his right to align his cock with the boy’s slick entrance. Leon rolled his hips forward, sliding and grinding his stiff and aching shaft against Oberoth’s gaping ass, hot-dogging his member between the Lab’s spread cheeks without committing to more, just for a few moments; his cockhead caught briefly on the rim of Oberoth's hole with each pass, threatening penetration before sliding away again, and each near-miss drew a whimper from the younger dog…until Leon finally reached his limit, and with a primal growl, he pushed forward.

“Nnnghrrrr!” The older Lab’s voice was a strained and guttural rumble as his cock sank into the hot, snug, and wet embrace of Oberoth’s ass—the younger dog’s sphincter opened for him with no resistance, save for the perfect amount of squeezing pressure that made Leon’s breath hitch in his chest. “Nngaah…fuck! That ass is like fuckin’ velvet!”

“Ooooh…fffffuuuuuuuck, Dad!” Oberoth moaned loudly in reply, not caring who heard him and utterly failing to realize that he was actually being penetrated by a stranger instead of his father. His hips moved by themselves, pressing backward to take Leon deeper inside him. The delicious pressure, the stretch, the heat, the fullness, the moment of connection, the fact that there were so many other people in the area who could watch him get fucked like this—it was everything he craved. And when the older Lab’s swollen and still-sheathed knot nudged against his entrance, Oberoth shivered, desperate to be thoroughly claimed. “Oh fuck…hooofuckIwantitbaaaaaad…”

Leon drew his hips back…and then surged forward.

Plap!

“Nnngh…Daddy’s gonna give you all he’s got, kiddo!”

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

Under the climber dome with Oberoth, Leon started fucking in earnest, swinging his hips back and driving forward to slam his hips against the younger dog’s rump with meaty slaps. He held onto Oberoth’s waist with both hands as he thrust at an energetic tempo, banging his knot against the boy’s hole. He hunched over his partner, blissfully unaware that he wasn’t mounting his own offspring; to Leon, the hole he was fucking was absolutely perfect, the hole that he’d made when he’d made Caleb. In that moment, he truly believed he was fucking his son, and he clenched his fingers tighter around Oberoth’s waist, anchoring himself as he humped hard and fast. Oberoth, for his part, eagerly bucked back against what he believed was his father’s cock, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he huffed and panted and whimpered in pleasure.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

———

Caleb blinked—the bright string lights and lanterns of the vendor tents were gone, replaced by dimmer lamps and glowsticks and shadows. The comparatively darker playground was almost disorienting, and as he lurched forward, something about the ground felt different…strange…

“Huh…spongy…” Caleb dumbly mused at the sensation of the softer rubber safety surface under his paws.

There was another tug on the collar around his throat—Alberith was yanking on his leash again, pulling him forward, and Caleb swayed unsteadily as he stumbled to keep up with the older Labrador who was leading him around the playground’s perimeter.

“Hmm…where’sagoo’spot…where’sagoo’spot…” Alberith’s words slurred together as he tried to scope out an acceptable location for a blowjob.

No, not the benches or the swings, he wanted to stand and get the pup on his knees…he always loved facefucking Oberoth, and that was what he was going to do this evening, even if he didn’t realize that he’d grabbed the wrong black Labrador. Alberith prowled around, pulling Caleb along behind him…no, not under the monkey bars, there were still a couple pups swinging and hanging upside down from them…the merry-go-round wouldn’t do, either, a couple handlers were taking turns pushing and spinning it for their pups who were hanging on for a ride…and Alberith didn’t want to go under the decks of the playground’s main fort, it was too dark—he wanted to be able to properly see his boy (or at least who he believed to be his boy) sucking his dick out in the open. Besides, it looked like that part of the playground was already occupied with some dogs who were already getting hot and heavy with each other…same with the pair who were fucking doggy style under the geodesic climber dome…damn, a couple of black Labs just like him and Oberoth…the older and bigger dog was a real stud, enthusiastically thrusting into his sexy, younger partner…hell, to Alberith’s bleary, alcohol-soaked vision, that hot little piece of ass wearing glowing neon necklaces and bracelets and getting fucked on the slide could’ve been a dead ringer for his own son…

But that observation (and its implication) evaporated into the ether the moment Alberith’s gaze landed on the sand pit about thirty feet away from the climber dome—it wasn’t too far away at all, and there was nobody else digging or playing in there…

“C’mon, boy, this way,” Alberith said gruffly, dragging Caleb along more urgently now that he had a destination in mind.

“Hnf! Yessir!” Caleb trotted as best as he could to keep up with the older Labrador and not get choked by the leash attached to his collar…and he stared for a moment at the pair of Labradors who were rutting doggy-style under the metal bars of the climber dome…looked like they were getting an audience, too, a few pups and handlers had wandered over and were leaning against the bars like spectators at a zoo exhibit, watching the show in a cage…

And then the next thing Caleb knew, his knees hit the soft sand and he was face-to-face with a musky and sweaty crotch in a blue jockstrap.

“Alright, puppy,” Alberith growled. He grasped the top of Caleb’s hooded head and pulled him in close, until the boy’s snout pressed into the prominent bulge of his thickening cock and heavy balls still in his jockstrap. “Come ‘n get it.”

“Awruff!” Caleb happily yipped before he nuzzled into Alberith’s crotch. His mouth watered and his tail wagged as he drank in the intoxicating scent—it was so musky, so sweaty, so raw and masculine…absolutely heavenly…

“Heh, ‘nuff with the fuckin’ teasing,” Alberith grunted, tightening his grip on Caleb’s head. He then used his free hand to roughly pull down the waistband of his jockstrap, and his erect cock jutted forward—thick and swollen, Alberith’s fat shaft was slick and glistening with his precum as it protruded from his sheath. His partly-inflated knot was still in the tight pocket of his groin, stretching the skin and fur, but the older dog was in too much of a rush to take the time to free himself, as he aggressively rolled his hips forward to grind his arousal against the side of Caleb’s neoprene muzzle. “Open up ‘n put that mouth to work, boy.”

“Ye-aahmfffmmmmm…” Caleb couldn’t even get a full word out; the instant he began to speak, Alberith thrust forward, filling his mouth completely as he sank his cock between his lips and pushed towards the back of his throat. Caleb moaned at the sudden invasion—he loved the weight and taste of it on his tongue, the pure smell of male in his nose as the tip of his snout pressed into Alberith’s groin, and the way the older dog’s hot and meaty shaft filled his mouth. He didn’t think for one second that he had a stranger’s dick in his muzzle—to his fucked up little brain, Caleb was getting to suck his dad’s cock, and he instinctively began to suck and lap at the shaft, his eyes lazily half-lidded.

“Yeeeah, that’s it, boy…tha’s Daddy’s goo’boy,” Alberith slurred as he dominantly dragged Caleb’s head back and forth, guiding the younger dog’s muzzle along his length.

Glulk, glulk, glulk, glulk…

Caleb’s lips dragged wetly along the shaft, and he salivated freely, slobbering all over the hot flesh that began to piston back and forth between his lips as Alberith rolled his hips forward and drew them back in time with the bobbing motion of the younger dog’s head. His tongue worked instinctively, curling to cradle the sides of the hot and fat shaft in his mouth, then sliding from side to side, up and down, hitting all the right spots, nursing on the pointed tip and sucking to maintain the perfect amount of vacuum pressure, all while drooling with abandon…

Glulk, glulk, glulk, glulk…

“Aawww, fuck yeah…tha’stheway,” Alberith growled lustily as he plunged his cock into the hot, wet, suckling mouth. He couldn’t get enough of how good it felt, to have Caleb’s nose pressing into his groin, to have the boy’s chin against his balls, to have the tip of his cock sinking into the boy’s gullet…oh fuck, Caleb’s throat was working him perfectly, his muscles smoothly contracting in just the right way around the head of his dick, practically milking him. “Yeah, suck Daddy’s dick…that mouth’a yours was…fuckin’ made for this, boy…you know that, right?”

“Mmmhmm…” Caleb moaned with his mouth full, simply lost in the moment.

“That’s right…you’re suckin’ the dick that made you…takin’ your old man’s cock like you were…born knowin’ how…heh, I trained you good…raised me a lil’ cock-suckin’ champ,” Alberith grunted.

“Mmmm…hmmmm…”

Glulk, glulk, glulk, glulk…

Alberith gripped Caleb’s head with both hands, his fingers digging into the neoprene of the younger dog’s hood. He kept thrusting, working at a steady tempo to facefuck the dog he thought was his son…when in actuality Oberoth less than thirty feet away and getting railed by the father of the pup currently giving Alberith head. Blithely unaware of that fact, Alberith groaned, staying rooted to his spot in the sand pit.

Glulk, glulk, glulk, glulk…

The late evening air was still warm, and it carried the scent of sweat and musk and alcohol while Alberith pumped Caleb’s head back and forth along his length…and before too long, he noticed indistinct shapes moving in his peripheral vision—spectators coming to watch the show. Well, he’d give them a show alright. He tightened his grip on Caleb’s head and continued thrusting while he used the boy’s muzzle like a masturbator, savoring the tight ring of those wet lips sliding along his shaft. “Jus’ keep suckin’ like that, son…Daddy’s got a big…fat…load to feed you.”

———

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

Oberoth groaned and he rocked forward with every thrust from Leon, his knees and palms pressing into the playground’s firm rubber safety surface—the dense yet springy material gave just enough to cushion the impact without deadening the sensation of the older Labrador’s pounding.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Ah fuck…uuuughyeeessss…tha’sthespot…” Oberoth whimpered.

His head hung between his shoulders, bouncing and swaying with the rhythm…then he tilted his head back again, rolling his eyes in pleasure…and he caught a glimpse of the shadowy audience that had gathered around the outside of the geodesic climber dome. The growing crowd pressed against the metal framework, but nobody was coming into the cage to join him and Leon, like voyeurs happy to respect an unspoken rule that they could look, but couldn’t touch.

“Hooo shit…”

“Hell yeah, buddy, take that dick!”

“Man, look at him go…”

“Wait…is that his kid? Fucking hot!”

“Woof!”

“God damn, Daddy…fuck his ass good!”

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

Leon vaguely registered the commentary while he kept drunkenly thrusting, although most of his focus was on the tight heat gripping his shaft like a wet and perfectly slick glove as he drove into Oberoth again and again and again…but every so often, he saw the looky-loos out of the corner of his eye. Pups and handlers alike had crowded around, some of them holding drinks, some of them holding their cocks as they jerked off while watching him and the dog he believed to be his son.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Oooh ffffuck, Dad…keep going…aw fuck, just like that, don’t stop…don’t…don’t stop!” Oberoth begged.

Leon grinned and kept thrusting. “Fuck yeah, kiddo…you—hff! You like havin’ that crowd watch…dontchu…”

Oberoth could barely see straight through the sting of sweat in his eyes and the jarring jolts of Leon humping him, but he managed to forward again…and he glimpsed a Doberman in a hood and a leather harness leaning against the dome’s angled bars as he stroked himself, his tongue hanging loose between his panting jaws as he shamelessly ogled Oberoth getting railed by the older Lab he thought was his dad.

As wasted as he was, something primal ignited in him—Oberoth’s heart thumped hard in his chest, his cock flexed and twitched in his jockstrap, and he pushed back into Leon’s thrusts like a bitch in heat. The bulge of the older Lab’s still-sheathed knot banged against his hole relentlessly, and Oberoth couldn’t stop himself from gasping, “Ah! Yes! H-harder! Fuck…harder, Daddy!”

“Ngghrrrrr…tha’smahboy!”

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

Leon started vigorously jackhammering into Oberoth with enough power to put a battering ram through a door. His knot was still in his sheath—which was painfully tight by now, threatening to split apart from how inflated the bulb at the base of his cock was—but he roughly ground it against the younger dog’s quivering sphincter every time he plunged his shaft in, and the wet sounds of his rough mating grew louder and faster as he picked up the pace.

“Tha’ssa…good…fuckin’…puppy hole!” Leon snarled.

“S’your puppy hole, Dad!” Oberoth barked back.

“Nnngh…oh fuck yeah, clench on it!” Leon threw his head back when he felt Oberoth squeeze around him. “Fuckin’ milk your dad’s bone…”

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

Somebody in the crowd whistled low, but Leon paid it no mind as he slurred and spat, “Tha’sthedick…that made you…n’ Daddy’s gonna…pump you fullapups…you hear me, kiddo?”

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

Leon’s pace was frantic, feral, as he lost himself in the moment. He was just pure need and motion, and he wanted to fuck the boy for everything he was worth. He rammed his hips hard against Oberoth’s rump and shoved hard with his knot, seeking entrance, needing to tie with the pup, to claim him…he just had to get the fat fucking bulb free first…his overstretched sheath was still covering it, but the pocket of skin and fur was starting to budge…

Oberoth couldn’t get enough of the thick heat pistoning in and out of him, the raw power behind each thrust, the pressure rising in his own loins as Leon’s cock rode over his prostate…he never wanted this moment to end, it just felt so good…but he wanted more…needed more…and he yelped, “Ah! Yessir! Please…please breed me!”

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

———

Glulk, glulk, glulk, glulk…

“Haaah…fuck, boy…nnngh…you’re too damn good at that,” Alberith panted, his hips rolling in a smooth rhythm as he continued dragging Caleb’s head back and forth along his length.

“Mmmm…mmmmm,” Caleb groaned around the thick, veiny cock stretching his muzzle wide, and he curled and undulated his tongue beneath the shaft’s pulsing underside, lovingly tracing over the hot flesh as he sucked and nursed on it.

Every wet, hungry slide of the younger Lab’s tongue sent electric jolts up Alberith’s spine and made the heat and pressure in his loins rise. The sensation was exquisite, torturous, and absolute bliss, like having his cock wrapped in hot, wet satin that somehow knew exactly where to apply pressure, where to tease, where to linger. The sensations were overwhelming—the slick glide of Caleb's lips protecting his shaft from teeth, the expert dance of that agile, pliable, and dexterous tongue, the way the boy’s throat opened and contracted around the head, and even the textured ridges on the roof of his mouth, all of it was driving Alberith crazy. And each time Caleb sucked harder, creating that perfect vacuum seal, Alberith's already rock-hard member throbbed with renewed urgency, somehow growing even harder than before.

Glulk, glulk, glulk, glulk…

With every backwards drag, Alberith’s rod slid out between Caleb’s lips, glistening with the younger dog’s slobber. When he pulled forward again, Caleb’s stretched lips bumped against the swollen bulge still trapped in Alberith’s sheath—the older Lab’s knot had inflated to the size of an apple, and it strained against the thin, pliable membrane of skin and fur that housed it. Caleb’s mouth watered in anticipation, and fresh drool leaked out from between his lips. He gulped down the mixture of his own saliva and Alberith’s salty precum (which had been steadily oozing into his mouth)…before he huffed deeply through his nostrils, drawing that wonderful musk into his lungs, that primal scent of arousal, sweat, and dominance that made his own cock twitch and strain within his tented jockstrap between his legs.

Still kneeling in the sand pit, Caleb couldn’t stop whipping his tail back and forth with such enthusiasm that he was making a couple of small dunes behind him. The lime green and electric blue glowstick necklaces around his throat cast an otherworldly glow across the contours of his neoprene hood, and to Alberith, that illuminated muzzle was a perfect target he couldn’t stop hitting; those glistening lips stretched wide around his throbbing member, that little glimpse of pink tongue visible with each withdrawal…he couldn’t stop sinking his cock into the wet heat, it was just irresistible.

Glulk, glulk, glulk, glulk…

Caleb’s eyelids drooped half-closed as he surrendered completely to the moment. The weighty, vein-ridged cock sliding across his tongue and pressing against the back of his throat had pushed all coherent thought out of his head—he was just a hungry pup desperate for his bone and even more desperate for a hot and creamy treat. Saliva pooled in his cheeks and dripped from the corners of his stretched lips, and every taste bud on his tongue tingled with the taste of salt and musk.

“Mmmm…hmmmmm…” Caleb sighed, content to simply serve as a warm, eager receptacle for his dad’s pleasure…or, rather, what he believed to be his dad’s pleasure. He had no idea that he was giving the blowjob of his life to a stranger while his actual father was balls-deep in another dog a mere ten yards away. The young Lab on his knees in the sand pit was just happy to keep his throat muscles relaxed as Alberith used his muzzle like a favorite, well-worn toy.

Glulk, glulk, glulk, glulk…

Meanwhile, Alberith couldn’t help but notice that the crowd he’d attracted had grown bigger; at least a dozen pups and handlers had formed a semi-circle around the sandpit, their silhouettes backlit by the lamps and lanterns and string lights hanging around the park’s playground. They remained on the perimeter, some of them standing and leaning against one another, some kneeling down for a closer look at the young Lab on his knees, some of them sipping from plastic cups and beer cans as they watched while others had whipped their dicks out and were teasing themselves as they ogled Alberith and Caleb.

“Fuck yeah, dude…”

“Bet he’s gonna make that pup swallow every drop…”

“Man…look at his throat bulge…fuck…”

“Kid’s a natural—not even choking.”

“Goddamn, so hot…yeah, work that mouth, pup.”

Alberith’s ears perked up, and he smirked down at Caleb as he continued pulling the boy’s head back and forth along his dick. “Think you’ve got some fans, son…all these guys came to watch you suck a load outta your dad’s cock…n’ you love bein’ the star of the show, huh?”

“Mmmm…hmmmm…hmmmm…” Caleb moaned around the shaft in his mouth, unable to answer with words. He glanced from side to side, looking out of the corners of his eyes—to his left was a Dalmatian who had crouched down to get a better look at him, while he saw a red-hooded dingo on his right, who had pushed his thong aside and was languidly pumping a hand along his own arousal. Caleb grunted and actively bobbed his head up and down in concert with Alberith’s pushing and pulling, giving his audience more of a show.

“Nnngh…Daddy’s got a real big treat for you, too…gonna pump it down your throat. You want that?” Alberith growled.

“Mmmhmmmmm!”

“Hehe…such a good, hungry pup…workin’ so hard for his ol’ man’s load…ah fuck!” Alberith panted, his composure beginning to crack. “Fuck! Need to…gonna…”

Alberith couldn’t hold back—abandoning all restraint, he gripped Caleb’s head firmly between his paws and held it still before he drove his hips forward in a frenzied rhythm, rapidly thrusting into the boy’s muzzle to facefuck him with gusto.

Glk-glk-glk-glk-glk-glk…

“Ngh! Ngh! Ngh! Fuck…fuck yeah, boy, take it…that’s what you wanted,” Alberith gruffly snarled between thrusts.

Caleb’s hands rose and rested on Alberith’s muscular thighs, but he held still otherwise, letting the rest of his body go slack as the older Lab dominantly took control. He blissfully closed his eyes and maintained the vacuum seal of his lips as Alberith’s cock wetly pistoned back and forth between them, riding over his tongue and pushing into his throat before pulling back, then in, out, in, out, in…

The rhythm was nonstop and hypnotic, to the point that Caleb’s world shrank to nothing but the sensation, the flavor, and the ecstasy of being used as a toy for someone else’s pleasure…all while Alberith skull-fucked him like a horny mutt humping a throw pillow—single-minded, selfish, and so goddamn happy about it.

“Hngh! Hrngh! Hrngh! Hrngh! Aw…fuck…yeah!” Alberith grunted. “Take it…all…boy…”

With every forward thrust of Alberith’s hips, his cock plunged deep into Caleb’s muzzle, Caleb’s nose mashed into his groin, and his balls swung up to smack the boy’s chin with wet, meaty slaps. Though his throat began to burn raw from the relentless friction, Caleb gulped eagerly. He didn’t care that he’d be left with a hoarse and raspy voice by the time Alberith was done using him, he just wanted to keep sucking his dick and earn that fat load promised to him…

“Careful with that pup's throat, man!” someone called. “Don’t wanna wear it out too much before the rest of us get a turn.”

Between labored breaths, Alberith managed a throaty laugh. “My kid can handle anything I give him. Right, boy?”

Alberith drew all the way back for just a second, and his cock slipped free from Caleb’s muzzle with a wet pop.

The young Lab gasped and coughed, saliva and precum dribbling down his chin, but he lunged forward, chasing after the retreating member, and his tongue darted out to lap at Alberith’s cock as if he’d die without another taste.

The older Lab smugly grinned at the laughing and murmuring crowd. “See? Lil’ cocksucker couldn’t get enough if he tried!”

With that, Alberith shoved his length back between Caleb’s lips harder than before, still under the impression that the boy was his own son.

“Gulk!” Caleb’s throat constricted around the sudden invasion, producing a wet, choked sound that then melted into a muffled groan of satisfaction. “Hmmm…”

The boy’s eyes rolled back when Alberith resumed his punishing rhythm, thrusting in and out of the wet and hungry muzzle with wanton lust.

Glk-glk-glk-glk-glk-glk…

“Hrrrnnngh…attaboy…keep suckin’ Daddy’s dick, son…”

———

Leon groaned…his sheath was so tight around his fat and throbbing knot that it felt like it was going to rip…and then…

“Unngh!”

The swollen bulb burst free with a wet pop when the taut skin of Leon’s sheath snapped back, exposing the stiff, softball-sized bulge around the base of his cock. The relief was instant, but the sudden explosion of sensation was even better, and it kicked Leon’s hips into overdrive—he thrust faster and harder, hurling his knot against Oberoth’s slick and battered ring, which now had nothing but raw, bare cock to content with instead of the furry sheath. Every time Leon plunged his shaft in the younger dog’s ass, his knot made an obscene, sticky sound as it forcefully kissed the rim of Oberoth’s twitching pucker.

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

“Awwffuuuckyeah, Dad…gimmethatknot!” Oberoth begged in a slurred rush.

Leon clenched tightly on Oberoth’s hips as he rammed into him hard and fast like an animal, insistently shoving his knot against the younger Lab’s flesh. Little by little, he could feel it give, but Oberoth’s sphincter was still resisting. “Almost..there…boy…fuckI’mgettin’ cloooose…jus’…c’mon…lemme in…open up for Daddy…”

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

“Ah…hah…hngh…hngh!” Oberoth huffed.

Trapped in his jockstrap, Oberoth’s cock strained against the fabric, painfully erect and pitching the stiffest tent he’d ever had. He desperately wanted to touch himself…but he had to stay up, with both hands planted on the ground; Leon’s relentless pounding was threatening to drive him face-first into the playground’s rubber safety surface if he didn’t keep himself stable.

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

Although with the way that he was getting fucked, maybe Oberoth wouldn’t need to touch himself…he just needed a little more of a push, to get closer to the edge.

“C’mon, Daddy…pleeaase,” he whined.

“You’re—hnf!—gonna take it, son,” Leon growled possessively, still hunched over the younger dog while humping him like his life depended on it. “You were…mngh!…madetotakeit…s’why I made you…to be my lil fuckhole…”

“Ffffuck yes…I’m Daddy’s lil’ fuckhole…”

“Whose holeisthat, boy?

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

“Your…ah! Your hole, Dad!”

“Mmm…gonna fill it good…gonna breed mahboy…”

“Please, Dad…I…I need it…ah, fuck, I need it!” Oberoth howled, his words cracked and guttural.

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

He tried to relax, to bear down, to do anything to force himself over that final threshold so he could let the older dog tie with him and get a load fucked out of him at the same time. Oberoth panted and whined as he strained, while his cock—still in his jockstrap—bounced up and down against his belly with every powerful thrust from Leon. The need to cum was overwhelming, but more than anything he craved that knot; he needed to feel it lock inside him, needed to have that feeling of being claimed completely and filled with what he thought was his father’s seed…even though his father was actually just on the far side of the two crowds that had formed between the climber dome and the sand pit.

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

Leon’s hips drove back and forth at a savage and frantic pace as he hammered away at Oberoth's backside, his swollen knot making wet, obscene noises as it battered against the younger dog' s entrance with each forward lunge. He panted in ragged breaths, drooling freely as he huffed in pleasure, and he kept on going, losing himself in the primal rhythm of fucking the pup raw. Oberoth’s bare flesh against his cock was so hot, so slick, so tight…he needed more…

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

“Knot that ass already!” a voice called from the crowd that had gathered around the cage of the climber dome.

“Pump ‘em full!” another encouraged.

Under his black and cobalt pup hood, Leon’s brow was absolutely drenched with sweat, but he kept going…fuck, he was getting so close, so dangerously close…

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

———

“Nghfuck!” Alberith gasped with a jolt when his inflated knot suddenly popped free—in an instant, his sheath had snapped back from around the swollen and hypersensitive bulb around the base of his cock, and the sensation was so intense that he almost came right then and there. His legs trembled and his breath caught in his chest as the pressure in his loins rose…but Alberith growled as he gritted his teeth, and he kept thrusting into the boy’s muzzle, his exposed and engorged knot now slapping against Caleb’s dripping lips and threatening to shove in.

Glk-glk-glk-glk-glk-glk…

Each wet collision grew louder as Alberith hammered harder and faster. His bare knot was slick with a mix of Caleb’s spit and his own musky secretions from his sheath, and it tingled every time it pressed against the hot, wet seal of the younger dog’s lips, sending shivers up Alberith’s spine and pushing him ever closer to the edge.

“Hoooooo…ffffuuuuck, boy…you’re gettin’ me there…gonna get Daddy’s knot in your mouth…”

“Mmmmphmmmm!” Caleb could only manage a desperate, muffled whine. He relaxed his throat and let his jaw go as slack as he could while still maintaining the vacuum seal of his lips around the hot and fat shaft thrusting between them, with more strings of spit dangling from his chin…

And then…

Caleb’s paws dropped from Alberith’s pumping and shivering thighs. As if on instinct, the boy’s hands went for his own crotch, where his tented jockstrap strained to contain his arousal. Even as Alberith continued to ravage his muzzle, Caleb pulled down the waistband of his jock, freeing his erection, and he grasped it tight in his fist before he started stroking it frantically. He moaned as he shamelessly pawed off—his stiff and hot shaft flexed in his grip, and his balls churned as they began to draw up tight against his body, heavy and aching for release as he serviced himself, all while being facefucked in front of the audience that had gathered around him and Alberith. He was close already just from sucking the older dog’s dick, but he needed to push himself more, needed to finish, wanted to cum just when he got that huge knot in his mouth and a fresh load pumped down his throat…

“Damn…pup’s really going to town on himself…yeah, work that bone, boy!” someone called.

Caleb’s heart fluttered and he moaned again as he jacked himself harder with one hand while he cupped and fondled his balls with his other. Alberith, meanwhile, carried on aggressively thrusting into his mouth, banging his knot against the boy’s snout, desperate to stuff it into his muzzle…he was so close…just a little more…

Glk-glk-glk-glk-glk-glk…

———

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

“Ah…hah…ah…hah…” Oberoth grunted as his eyes rolled back and he panted, lost in the moment as he actively rocked back against the older Labrador thrusting into him.

His fingers dug into the playground’s rubber safety surface and he curled his toes; he bore down, pushing out to open himself as wide as possible for the knot that was wetly slapping and ruthlessly grinding against his hole. Inside his jockstrap, his cock throbbed and twitched—his own knot had managed to pop free of his sheath, and it throbbed painfully, begging for attention, while the fabric of his jock was getting wetter and slimier with more precum. Oberoth drooled as his head bounced back and forth, his body jolting to the rhythm of Leon’s frantic thrusting…

“Oh man, he’s fucking the pup stupid…”

“That’s a good boy…take that knot…come on, you can do it, we wanna see you take it…”

The voices rising from the crowd gathered around the climber dome seemed to fade to background noise—all that mattered to Oberoth right then was the heat, the fullness, and the pressure of the thick shaft pistoning in and out of him, riding over his prostate with every thrust…he needed more…just a little more to push him over the edge…

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

“Hrrngh…nggaaahh…fuck, kiddo!” Leon snarled. He was slamming himself into Oberoth with every ounce of strength he could muster, still fully believing that he was fucking Caleb, not some other man’s son. His hips pumped fast and hard, driving his cock deep into the warm, snug, and slick tunnel that embraced him…clenched on him…hungrily begged him to keep going…but the pressure building in Leon’s groin was unbearable, and his balls were starting to draw up tight. He could feel himself approaching the point of no return, like a lit firework on the verge of exploding with the biggest bang imaginable. “Gonna…ah fuck, I’m gonna…”

Plap-lap-lap-lap-lap…

Lost in the throes of his passionate and aggressive rut, the older Lab panted in ragged puffs, his tongue lolling out the side of his muzzle. He was just a hair’s breadth away from the finish line, he just needed to force his aching, swollen knot past the tight ring of muscle that kept denying him, to stuff himself completely in that hot, wet, velvety hole and tie with the pup under him. And with each thrust, Oberoth’s resistance weakened…the ring of muscle yielded little by little, almost at the breaking point…

———

Glk-glk-glk-glk-glk-glk…

Alberith was losing control—he was humping at a wild, feverish pace, driving his shaft between Caleb’s lips with wet, sloppy urgency. He held the younger Lab’s head in an iron grip, his fingers digging into the black and hunter green neoprene of Caleb’s hood, as he hunched over the pup kneeling in the sand pit. He’d practically gone feral, his raging and drunken libido making him thrust in and out of Caleb’s muzzle like a primal beast, and in that moment all he cared about was emptying his balls down the younger dog’s (by now) ravaged throat.

“Nnngh…ah, fuck, boy…not gonna…last much…longer!” he growled through clenched teeth.

Caleb’s half-lidded eyes had glazed over; drool freely dripped down over his chin and fell to the sand below him, and he grunted as Alberith’s engorged knot repeatedly collided with his sealed lips. He was barely aware of anything except the mounting pleasure and the exhilarating thrill of sucking off the dog he believed to be his father…although he still had the wherewithal to keep frantically pawing off, desperate for release now—as he’d teased himself, he’d managed to pull his own knot free of his sheath, and his palm rhythmically beat against the top of the sensitive bulb with every downstroke of his fist. He was leaking precum like a broken faucet, making his hot, pulsing shaft slick against his palm, and every pump of his fist pushed him closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. It was hovering just out of reach—the pressure was building up, making him moan around the cock pumping in and out of his mouth…he just needed a little extra nudge…

Glk-glk-glk-glk-glk-glk…

“Yeah, feed that boy a big load.”

“Goddamn, look at him go…”

“Dibs on next, I wanna feel that throat.”

Alberith could still hear the murmuring crowd on the sidelines, but their voices were just white noise to him at this point. His vision had narrowed—there, in the dim evening light, all he could focus on was the dog that he was face-fucking, the dog that he still thought was his own son.

The boy’s throat intermittently convulsed around him, each erratic swallow making Alberith’s stiff cock pulse and twitch. The way Caleb obediently took every inch he was given…the way he was playing with himself while eagerly sucking Alberith’s dick…the wet slap of Alberith’s heavy balls against the pup’s chin…the hot, wet muzzle engulfing his length…the vacuum pressure…the warm breath on his knot…the drool…the textures of those soft lips and tongue curling around his arousal…the obscene sucking sounds of saliva and lips on cock…

It was all getting to be too much for Alberith to take. He was like a dam holding back a storm surge, and an imminent tidal wave was speeding towards him to break down the wall. All he needed was to shove his knot into the young dog’s muzzle, to feel that cold nose buried against his groin and that talented throat swallowing around his shaft to milk him dry.

Glk-glk-glk-glk-glk-glk…

Alberith’s legs shook—the physical effort of staying on his feet while thrusting at a fast and furious pace was taking a toll, not to mention the electrifying pleasure making his muscles spasm. But he managed to stay upright, still hunching over the younger dog’s head as he continued thrusting into Caleb’s muzzle. “Nngh…here it comes, pup…gonna give you…a big fuckin’ load…you want it bad, don’chu…”

“Mmmmhmmm…”

Glk-glk-glk-glk-glk-glk…

“Tha’ssit…be a good fuckin’ cocksucker n’ take it…tha’smyboy…ah fuck…” Alberith’s words dissolved into almost unintelligible grunts as his hips jerked forward, but managed to pant, “Almost…a-almost…”

———

Without intending to, Leon and Alberith couldn’t have been any more in sync if they’d planned it.

“Ah fuck!” Leon barked with one more mighty shove of his hips.

Oberoth’s rim bowed inward; it couldn’t take any more, and Leon’s swollen knot shoved in past the boy’s sphincter, breaching the battered and straining fleshy ring and plunging into his ass with a wet, fleshy plop.

“Hnngh!” Oberoth’s head snapped back with a strangled cry as the older dog’s knot pressed on his prostate and his shaft sank even deeper into him. Every nerve in his body lit up with electrifying pleasure as he stretched around the huge bulb that now tied him to the Labrador he thought was his father. The fullness, the heat, the solid heft of that knot, the intimacy of that connection, the anticipation of knowing what was going to come next—it was all too much for him to take, he was about to explode…and then Leon held his hips tight and kept humping in microthrusts, grinding his knot against his P-spot in a way that made Oberoth tremble. He squeezed his eyes shut and arched his back as hard as he could as he felt the beginnings of that inevitable rush…

In that same instant, ten yards away, Alberith drove forward into Caleb’s muzzle with a final, forceful thrust.

“Gonna—hngh!” the older Labrador spat.

There was a nanosecond of resistance—Caleb’s jaw strained and the skin of his lips stretched taut. But then, with a satisfying, saliva-slicked glop, Alberith’s knot abruptly pushed past his lips. It pressed hard on his tongue, the back of his teeth, and the roof of his mouth, and the younger Lab’s cheeks ballooned around the hot, throbbing, and swollen bulb around the base of Alberith’s cock, while the meaty shaft had plunged deeper into his throat. Caleb gagged; he couldn’t have opened his jaws any wider to try to get Alberith’s knot out—the canine he thought was his dad was locked in, tied with his muzzle…and Caleb moaned loudly as he slammed his hand down around his own knot and squeezed…

That was the final push to send Oberoth and Caleb over the edge.

With Leon fully hilted inside him and still thrusting, Oberoth came hard in his jockstrap without even touching himself. His cock pulsed and spasmed wildly, pumping out spurt upon spurt of thick and slimy jizz into the already-damp and musky fabric, making an absolute mess. The pouch of his jock became sticky and oversaturated as more and more of his load collected in it…until the nylon fibers couldn’t absorb anymore, and his cum began to seep through the weave and drip to the rubber-coated ground beneath him. At the same time, Caleb kept his hand clenched around his own knot, and his shaft pulsated and flexed with every ejaculatory spasm that propelled rope after rope of cum into the air. The first couple erratic arcs splattered across his own stomach and chest…more spilled onto the sand between his legs…and more still flowed and dripped down along his cock and over his squeezing paw…

“Daaaaaaaaad!” Oberoth yowled as he came hands-free.

“Mmmmmmnngh!” Caleb’s moan was guttural and heated as he kept clenching on his knot.

Neither of them had a single, coherent, rational thought in their heads. Oberoth and Caleb were simply lost on the waves of pleasure that coursed through them, their minds blank while their bodies worked on instinct—Oberoth involuntarily clenched in rhythmic spasms around the knot stretching him open while Caleb clenched his jaw and sucked even harder around the bulb pressing against his tongue…

And a fraction of a second later, Leon and Alberith howled in unison as well.

“Hooooffffuuuuuuuuck!”

“Haaaanngh!”

Leon hunched over Oberoth, eyes squeezed shut and his lips peeled back in a rictus of pleasure as he howled into the air. His cock throbbed so hard that it almost hurt—his knot felt like it was about to explode while his stiff and swollen shaft spasmed against the clutching, clenching, hot, slick, and fleshy confines of Oberoth’s ass. Surge after surge of his cum shot into the younger Lab’s tight passage, filling Oberoth with a seemingly endless flood of molten, liquid heat. As he came, Leon held his hips firm against Oberoth’s rump, doing his utmost to bury his cock as deep as possible in the younger Lab (even though his inflated knot was already keeping the two of them locked together); when he ran out of breath to howl, he grunted and snarled and panted, strung out on the hormonal rush of his orgasm. His balls felt like they were twisting themselves into oblivion as they pumped more of his potent seed into Oberoth, and Leon tensed and strained from head to toe with the full-body effort of his climax.

More…more…more…through the rapturous haze of his own release, Oberoth could feel jet upon jet of delicious and sticky heat pumping into him…every spasm of Leon’s cock sent another gush of fresh, thick seed flowing into his every nook and cranny…to the point that Oberoth sensed a certain pressure mounting in his belly…his stomach began to distend ever so slightly from the high volume of cum being dumped into him…and not a single drop spilled out of him, thanks to Leon’s knot plugging him tight.

Locked in place by that knot and the parental hands vise-gripping his hips, Oberoth could only whimper and moan as the heat of the older dog’s load churned in his bowels…and his own cock continued to twitch and leak even more of his own cum into the sludgy, sticky, and slimy pouch of his ruined jockstrap.

As Leon rode through his climax, his jaw eventually went slack, and he panted and drooled with his tongue hanging out. Nothing existed beyond this moment for him beyond the desperate, animal need to breed, to empty himself into the tight pup that he fully believed was his own flesh and blood…it felt so good…the squeeze and ripple of the boy’s body clenching around him, milking him for every last drop of cum his balls could produce…

Thirty feet away, in the sand pit, Alberith howled in primal pleasure as he squeezed both sides of Caleb’s head as his cock swelled, then spasmed…and then flexed when an eruption of cum geysered out of it. His paws clamped on the pup’s skull so hard that the pressure was almost unbearable for Caleb, but Alberith didn’t care—it just felt so good to finally unload, and with Caleb’s lips wrapped around the very root of his cock and his knot enveloped in the boy’s hungry, sucking muzzle, he flooded the younger Lab’s mouth with a deluge of thick, salty, and perfectly musky cum.

Despite still being in the throes of his own orgasm, Caleb swallowed automatically, his throat convulsing and working frantically to gulp down the abrupt surge of cum being pumped into his gullet. Alberith’s cock pulsated and jerked on his tongue…his firm knot throbbed…and spurt upon spurt of hot, viscous seed shot into Caleb’s throat. The boy gulped and gulped, greedily swallowing as much as he could and trying not to waste a single precious drop…but it just kept coming; the more mature canine’s balls seemed to have a bottomless reserve of jizz. Pulse after pulse pumped into his throat…to the point that Caleb could feel pressure rising in his stomach…he was starting to bloat from the impossible amount of pup batter he was swallowing…his belly swelled…and then more of Alberith’s cum backed up into his throat…another pulse, and another…more filled his mouth, he couldn’t keep up…another pulse—

Splut!

Caleb snorted and gagged when more cum backed up into his nasal cavity and spurted from his nostrils, making a mess of the older dog’s groin…

But Alberith grunted and huffed as he held Caleb’s head tight to his crotch. He didn’t care about the mess, didn’t care that he was making the boy fat off of his load and even more of his cum was leaking from Caleb’s nose like snot, he just needed this, needed to keep pumping his seed into the hot, wet, slimy mouth that kept sucking on him…

Caleb’s head swam…Oberoth’s world was spinning from the pleasure…Alberith’s knees threatened to buckle under him, but he stayed standing even though his mind was awash with ecstasy…and Leon moaned as he kept emptying his balls into the pup under him. At the apex of their pleasure, not a single one of the black Labradors realized the inadvertent, drunk mistake they’d made as they shared the same orgasmic moment, with Leon and Oberoth separated from Alberith and Caleb by only thirty feet of distance and their respective audiences. They were simply too caught up in the moment, too enraptured by the lustful heat, arousal, taboo, and inebriated passion that had overwhelmed their already-lowered inhibitions…and it seemed they weren’t the only ones.

While a ripple of appreciative howls, barks, and applause arose from both of the small crowds that had formed around the sand pit and the climber dome, the dual spectacles of Leon breeding Oberoth and Alberith face-fucking Caleb had also ignited a chain reaction of riled up and rowdy pups and handlers who were getting frisky with themselves and each other. A German Shepherd in a hood who had been humping his burly Doberman handler’s leg came with a high-pitched whine…a pair of young coyotes were kissing as they frotted their cocks together…a Bulldog decked out in leather lost his load across a Husky’s face, painting the pup’s yellow and black hood with splatters of cum…a Heeler was rutting with a Mastiff…phone cameras flashed…more dogs had paired off to copulate with one another…and the night air began to grow thick and soupy with the mingled stink of sweaty dog and musk and sex…all while the four Labradors who had started it all shuddered and groaned through the final throes of their climaxes…

Until…

Huffing and puffing, Leon blinked, trying to clear the sweat from his eyes and refocus his swimming and swirling vision as he came down from his orgasm. Somewhere in the hormonal haze of satisfaction and his drunken stupor, his gaze drifted down to the pup who had slumped in front of him. Oberoth had collapsed to his chest; the boy’s ass was still up, still tugging on the knot tied within it, but he’d flopped his upper torso on the ground, exhausted, his belly full and heavy with Leon’s cum.

Exhausted and drunk as he was, Leon admired the view…the spread of the boy’s hips…the way the pup’s tail flicked as he basked in the afterglow…the sweep of his toned back muscles…but then, as the post-nut clarity set in, certain details began to stand out…the harness didn’t sit quite the way it had earlier in the day, and the straps were thinner…and that tattoo on the youngster’s shoulder looked like it was permanent, something that the pup had had for a long while…

“Hang…hangon…you’re not…Cal?” he drunkenly mused.

Thirty feet away and still standing in the sand pit, Alberith panted hard, his chest heaving…before it began to settle to a more natural rhythm as he recovered.

“Hoooo, boy…fuck, son…ooh, easy, easy!” he said with a wince when the mouth latched around his cock suckled on his still-swollen knot.

Alberith opened his eyes and looked down, the fog of his climax beginning to clear out; the young Labrador kneeling in front of him was a mess, with a visibly enlarged stomach full of his jizz and cum dribbling down his chin, multiple streaks of it still dripping from his nostrils, and strings of saliva and cum webbing over his lips. The boy’s eyes were glassy and unfocused, as if he was still in a cum-drunk (or maybe just drunk) trance…and as Alberith gazed down at the pup who had just swallowed most of his load, he realized that the boy was missing a gold tattoo on his shoulder…and that there was a septum ring in his nose, currently splattered with his cum.

“Waitaminute…” Alberith leaned back, trying to get a better look at the pup’s face; the angle was awkward with his knot still locked in the boy’s muzzle…but he managed to see enough. “You’re not…Obi…”

Both younger Labs were too far gone to register what their older counterparts had said, but just as Alberith began to look around, Leon did the same, peering from side to side…and then…a part in the crowd offered a line of sight from the geodesic climber dome to the sand pit.

For a long, suspended moment, both black Labs blearily locked eyes across the playground.

As drunk and spent as Alberith and Leon were, their synapses managed to fire in that silent beat…and then, sudden mutual realization hit them.

Leon guffawed.

Alberith chuckled low to himself and shook his head in disbelief.

Moving as one, both fathers tried to pull their hips back without thinking…Caleb’s head jerked forward and Oberoth’s ass jerked back, but Leon and Alberith stopped as soon as they’d started, wincing and hissing with sharp, overstimulated jolts that seared through the alcohol-soaked afterglow. Leon’s knot was too inflated to pull out of Oberoth’s battered and aching ass, and Alberith’s was too engorged to withdraw from Caleb’s stretched and bulging muzzle—both hypersensitive knots were locked in the respective holes they’d been shoved into, and in another instant, both older Labs realized they’d have to wait for the swelling to go down before they could untie with the sons they’d accidentally swapped…and at that point, neither Leon nor Alberith could stop themselves from simply breaking out in barks of laughter.