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Part three. Tell me what you think about this one. It's harsher (and a bit longer) than the others.

NOTE: Please don't try this at home. A lot of it is dangerous and irresponsible, and I won't be held liable for any damages injury or death incurred by attempting to recreate acts described in this story.

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The low rumble of the ocean below, the faraway cries of seabirds and the gentle rhythm of Paul's breathing on his neck were the only sounds Josh bore witness to as he lay curled naked on the bed next to his master.

The bedroom was still gloomy, but thin trails of twilight had begun to illuminate it through the drawn blinds. It was Saturday morning - the morning after he had first "played dog" for an entire day with his master. Josh had reflected briefly the night before, that for a master who hung his dog and whipped him for nothing, shocked him for taking too long to fetch a tennis ball and forced him to drink urine for failing to control his bladder under duress, it was highly inconsistent for him to let his dog sleep next to him on his bed all night. Still, he was not one to complain about such things.

Presently, he curled up warmly between the sheets - his mind was bobbing gently between sleep and consciousness - somewhat aware, but still subject to the vagaries and immense stillness of his active subconscious. The pain of yesterday formed an omnipresent backdrop to his floating, and was perhaps why his sleep was not as deep or as long as it usually would have been. The welts on his back seemed ready to cut through his peace with the slightest movement.

Josh felt his master next to him begin to stir, and the bobbing ball of his mind became stationary- abandoned now for good by the lapping current of sleep.

His master's breathing first became less regular, and then Josh felt his master's warm hand - which had been reaching over Josh's flank to rest just in front of his chest - retreat back and away. Josh's body felt cold where Paul's arm had been resting, keeping it warm.

Paul rolled over and checked the clock on his bedside table before rolling back to face Josh.

"Hey, babe. You awake?"

Josh moved slightly - tensing the muscles in various parts of his body to indicate to Paul that he was. He didn't know whether they were still "playing the game" or not. He assumed they were.

"Don't say anything. We're still playing... sort of. I just wanted to get something clear with you before we wake up properly and carry on."

Josh opened his eyes and squinted into the twilight. He nodded his head slowly to show that he was listening.

"Today I want to take you to a friend of mine who's doing a similar thing as we are, with two partners, but I think they've been doing it long-term for a lot longer. I know him well from university, but I don't know either of his partners... And you don't know any of them. What I wanted to tell you was that if we go there, it is likely that one or more of them will do things to you of a sexual nature."

Paul paused to make sure Josh understood.

"I just wanted to make sure that you'd know that. If you understand this and still want to carry on playing, just nod. Obviously I'm entirely comfortable with it if you are... I wouldn't have organised it if I wasn't"

Josh paused for a second before nodding slowly. He had never had sex with anyone besides Paul, which was why it was a big deal. The notion scared him a bit, and he wondered if this wasn't partly why Paul was telling him... But he considered it, and it wasn't something he'd stop the whole game over. He was enjoying being Paul's dog, even if Paul was a harsh master.

"Alright," Paul whispered into his floppy ear.

"I'm going to get out of bed in a minute or two. When I do, the game is on properly again."

They lay like that in silence for a short while longer. Josh knew that Paul wasn't someone who rushed getting out of bed under any circumstances. Eventually, Paul rolled over and sat up yawning. This, Josh felt, was his cue - he quickly got up onto his hands and legs on the bed and wagged his tail - he pushed his nose into Paul's face and licked his hairy cheek.

"Good morning, boy," Paul said and ruffled the thick black-and-white fur around Josh's neck.

"Sleep well?"

Rhetorical question to an animal. Josh licked his master a few more times on the cheek.

Paul got up out of bed and Josh jumped onto the floor after him. Paul opened the blinds and made his bed before leaving the bedroom - gesturing for Josh to follow.

Josh felt almost unpleasantly cool in the tiled apartment. His hands and knees felt particularly icy against the hard tiles. Paul was wearing boxers and a vest, but Josh was obviously still in the nude, not counting a plain leather collar with the short leash attached to it which was now trailing between his hands on the floor. Paul led him into the kitchen where his bowls still were from yesterday.

First Paul poured himself a glass of orange juice and ate a banana. Josh just "sat" like a dog on the cold tiles and looked at him - his tummy rumbled. All he'd had to eat yesterday evening and afternoon had been 100g of dog food.

Paul picked up one of the silver dog bowls, and measured out a small amount of dog food again. Josh felt slightly disappointed, but he supposed he couldn't expect much else. Good dogs were certainly never given treats by their masters unless they were very very good. Anthro-food was bad for dogs anyway.

Josh felt a lot more disappointed when Paul dropped his pants again, and filled the second dog bowl with his night's urine. He whined, and his ears fell flat against his skull as he looked Paul in the face pathetically - hoping his master would be merciful. Paul noticed this and reproached him in a stern voice.

"Bad boy, Josh. One thing I never do is lie about the punishment I'm going to give you. I told you that you wouldn't be having water for two days, which means yesterday and the whole of today. I will never go back on a punishment I've given you, no matter how merciful I feel. But because I am feeling merciful today, I won't punish you for being disrespectful and not taking your punishment like a good dog."

Josh wanted to whine again, but he fell silent. His ears fell even flatter against his skull as he thought of drinking nothing but wee for the whole day.

"Daddy's going to go and take a shower and get dressed. You will eat your food and drink your wee. If I come back and find one drop in that bowl or on the floor, daddy will hang you up and hit you forty times with the whip."

With that, Paul left the room for his bedroom - leaving Josh to sit and contemplate the dry dog food and acrid urine sitting in the silver bowls. He whined softly to himself.

Josh heard the shower turn on rooms away. Strangely, it did not even occur to him that he could tip the urine down the sink, and maybe even get rid of the dog food and eat something normal in the time his master was in the shower. It did not occur to him that he wasn't a real dog which had no choice but to directly obey or disobey its master.

He ate the kibbles. They tasted much the same as they had last night - a strong, unpleasant crunch which coated the inside of his muzzle with a slimy residue. There weren't many of them, mercifully, but he realised that he was on quite a strict diet if all he was going to eat was 100g of dry dog biscuits twice daily for over a week. He finished the kibbles, and surveyed the cooling urine with dread.

He managed to drink it all, but it was hard to motivate himself alone. He avoided vomiting, and finally finished it all gulp by acrid gulp - forcing himself to lick up the few remaining droplets, and even lick the remains off his own lips. His eyes were watering, and once again his entire perception was clouded by the overwhelming scent of his master. Every time he inhaled, it was acrid urine. The kibbles and urine mixed together unpleasantly in his stomach, and he felt sick.

It wasn't long after he'd finally finished that his master returned - now dressed in a T-shirt and jeans - and came to inspect his work.

"Good boy, Josh," he declared after making sure there was no residue left at all.

"Such a good clean doggy," and he ruffled Josh's ears.

Josh whined softly. He felt ill, but again he also felt the strange happiness that came with his master praising him. He wagged his tail.

Paul messed around in the kitchen for a while - fixing himself a bowl of cornflakes. He ignored Josh presently, much like masters do with their real dogs for much of the time. Josh just followed him around and "sat" like a dog when he stopped moving. He felt strange and cold - naked like he was in the tiled kitchen. Glancing up at the digital clock on the microwave, Josh saw that it was nearly ten. He realised that the overcast weather outside had made it seem a lot earlier than it really was. He had no way of rinsing out his muzzle, and the horrible taste of urine in his mouth was still as strong as ever - deadening his senses of smell and taste to anything else. He wished he had his own bowl of cornflakes to eat to get rid of the powerful odour... He whined almost inaudibly.

Eventually Paul finished his cornflakes. Apparently they were going somewhere - perhaps his friends' - because he called for Josh to follow him, and they went into the "toy room". Paul replaced Josh's leather collar with a linked choke chain, and his leash with one of normal length. He also selected a riding crop, which he attached to his belt, and a muzzle from the selection in one of the footlockers. Josh saw that it wasn't a real dog muzzle - it was a piece of equipment which had actually been designed for fetish play between anthros. This was a rarity among Paul's toys, which were usually modified or unmodified tools designed to be used on real animals.

In any case, the "muzzle" in question was strong black leather designed for a canine or vulpine head. Its key feature was that it didn't just hold the muzzle closed like a real dog muzzle; it held the muzzle forced open around two wide steel rings of differing sizes. The wearer's tongue would go through these rings as well. It made all oral functions - talking and swallowing - impossible, but provided for forced oral sex with the unfortunate wearer. The rings were just wide enough for a large penis to fit through comfortably all the way to the back of the throat, and there was nothing the wearing could do to stop it. An unpleasant side effect of wearing it was that one couldn't swallow one's own saliva, and drooling became uncontrollable.

Paul knelt in front of his sitting dog and ruffled his ears.

"Hey boy, we're going out to see some friends today."

He installed the ring-muzzle on Josh's head - gently prying open his jaws to insert the rings which would fit inside his mouth.

"Daddy's friend Donovan has two of his own doggies. I'm sure you lot will be great friends!"

He fastened the muzzle's straps under Josh's chin and tightened them. The cold steel rings felt unnatural in Josh's mouth, but the smooth metal was not uncomfortable as such. However, he knew from past experience that these things tended to get very uncomfortable after prolonged wear.

Without bothering to explain to his pet why he was wearing such a strange, restrictive muzzle, Paul led him out of the apartment and down to his car in the garage below the building. For the second time that weekend, Josh was naked in a public place where it wasn't strictly legal to be, but mercifully they didn't run into anyone in the building. Josh wondered if those two fox kids they had "played with" yesterday would have been suspicious about his weird muzzle. Upon reflection, he supposed they probably wouldn't be.

Paul's car was parked in the underground lot assigned to him. The parking garage, like the building itself, was deserted. In fact, only a few bays were occupied by cars at all. Paul's car was a ten-year-old Toyota Corolla - a smallish sedan. He led Josh over to it and popped open one of the rear passenger doors - fishing out what appeared to be some type of cage which he placed down on the concrete floor of the garage.

The cage was made mostly of solid beige plastic, but had a thick wire-mesh door. It was an animal cage of some kind - probably designed for real dogs, judging by the size of it. It was the type animals would be stored in at a vet or in an aeroplane, Josh supposed. The problem, though, was that this particular one appeared to be designed for real dogs which were a lot smaller than anthro Josh. Even "sitting" like a real dog on the dusty concrete, the cage only came up to his neck. Its width and depth were also not very inspiring.

Despite the obvious size problem, Paul opened the small cage door and gestured for Josh to somehow squeeze in.

"Come on boy; into your cage like a good doggy."

Josh noticed Paul's hand stray down to the handle of the riding crop affixed to his belt. By this stage, Josh had learned that it was best to obey his master without hesitation. He flattened his ears and turned around - reasoning that squeezing into the cage might be easier in reverse.

He managed to wiggle his way in somehow. He was hunched over - the plastic roof of the cage pressing down hard on his head, which he had hunched as low as he could. Even with his nose right up against the door, his back was pushing uncomfortably against the back of the cage, and he also felt the walls on either side of him brush against his shoulders. His balls were squashed unpleasantly into the cool plastic below him. A thin sliver of drool from his forcibly opened muzzle ran down in a line to plop onto the back of his hand. He whined as his master clicked the mesh door closed, and cold steel pressed uncomfortably into his soft canine nose. With a heave, Paul lifted the cage onto the back seat of his car and closed the door.

The door of the cage was facing the dark upholstery of the closed car door, so Josh had very little to look at on the journey to wherever Donovan was. He supposed, though, that it would also be impossible for anyone to see into the car and identify him in the cage. It was a small consolation for his cramped body and cramped jaw clamped around steel rings, and the slivers of drool which were now consistently falling from his muzzle. The journey took about twenty minutes, but it seemed longer to Josh, whose extremities were becoming numb by the time Paul pulled to a stop somewhere and killed the engine. A puddle of drool had formed in the bottom of Josh's cage, and gravity had caused a thin rivulet of it to find its way back to his scrotum, which was mashed up against the plastic. His own cold saliva ran in a decidedly unpleasant current around his right testicle. His maw, by this stage, was feeling very dry. The taste of that morning's urine still managed to linger.

Josh heard Paul get out of the car and walk away - then he heard him talking with another man. After a few moments, he heard footsteps back to the car, and was momentarily blinded by pale white light from the overcast sky as Paul opened the rear passenger door and hefted the tiny cage out onto what must have been Donovan's driveway.

"This is my little doggy," Josh heard his master tell someone. He could see, through the wire bars of his cage, two legs which did not belong to his master. The feet and legs were naked - large and feline, like Paul's, but orange with black on the legs. Josh recognized the feet as belonging to a tiger anthro. Donovan, it must have been.

"Aaw, he's cute," Josh heard a strange voice say - it was deep and gravely.

Paul reached down and opened the door to Josh's cage. Josh felt relief from his squashed nose, but realised with a bit of panic that he was still stuck in the cage, and wouldn't be able to move out on his own. His problems were solved, however, when Paul tilted the cage to let him fall out onto the gravel that was Donovan's driveway.

Josh yelped as his nose struck stone, but quickly righted himself into a dog-sitting position and surveyed his latest admirer. Donovan was a tiger - a huge tiger, actually. If possible, he made Paul look small, and not many people did that. He must have stood at least 6'4", and he was muscled... His huge feline face was smirking down at Josh. He wore denim shorts and a black T-shirt.

"So you like the skinny little Border collie types? Hehe, Tyson and Desmond are going to make very good friends with him I think."

Josh didn't know who Tyson or Desmond were, but he didn't like the sound of them. He assumed they were Donovan's two "dogs'.

"He's muzzled, as you can see. I thought it would be best, since this is their territory and all... I don't want there to be a fight. You know what dogs are like."

Donovan laughed heartily.

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that... I'm sure they'll love him. Anyway, let's go round to the back and introduce him."

Donovan led Paul - who in turn led Josh by the leash - towards a gate in a white picket fence. They were following a path which apparently led around a suburban house which Josh assumed was Donovan's. The path was rough gravel, and Josh disliked how it dug into his hands and knees. He was thankful to be out of that tiny cage, though.

They ended up in the backyard of the house. It was bordered on all four sides by relatively tall walls. Josh noticed that there did not seem to be neighbouring houses on two of the three sides - just thick sub-tropical vegetation common in the region. The yard itself was quite big, but was mostly lawn - a rectangular swimming pool nestled up against a porch with a respectable covered and tiled veranda.

Josh's attention was drawn to two huge wooden dog kennels sitting next to each other to the one side of the porch. Even more pressingly, it was drawn to the two dogs - one lying in each kennel. They stirred as they were approached by Donovan, and Josh saw that they weren't "real" dogs - they were anthro "dogs" like him.

The first dog lay in a kennel with the name "Tyson" written on a sign above the entrance. He got up onto all-fours, and Josh saw that he was a huge Rottweiler anthro - nearly as big as Donovan himself. He was totally naked but for a black, spiked leather collar around his thick neck. His glossy black and brown fur revealed bulging muscles beneath, and Josh noted with trepidation his enormous black-furred testes which dangled between his thick legs.

The second dog - Desmond - also stirred. He appeared to be some sort of Eskimo dog - Josh would have said husky, but he was far larger than most huskies, and was probably a malamute, or crossbreed. His fur was ash grey with a black stripe on his head, and his eyes were both a furious sky-blue. He was almost as big as his Rottweiler companion.

The two huge anthro canines - both entirely naked save for their identical collars - clambered somewhat clumsily onto all-fours and wagged their tails as Donovan approached. They had clearly both noticed Paul and Josh, as they glanced in their direction - and it would be more accurate to say that they stared a Josh, who suddenly felt vulnerable in this strange yard with these strange dogs.

Donovan patted both his dogs on their big heads.

"Look, boys. There's a friend for you to play with."

The malamute turned and glared at Josh with a furious ice-blue expression on his huge face. Josh noticed, with a great deal of trepidation this time, how Desmond raised his ears and glared at him hungrily. Tyson had also noticed him, apparently, and was studying him intently. The malamute began to pant as he stared at Josh, who whined unconsciously through his open muzzle.

"Go on Josh; go and make friends with those nice doggies!"

Paul let go of Josh's leash, and it flopped into the grass at his side. Josh had no intention of going anywhere - he looked up at Paul and whined again. A thin sliver of drool ran down from his open maw to his white chest.

"Come Paul, let me get you a beer. Let's leave them alone for a while to make friends."

Paul left Josh's side and headed towards Donovan, and the door which led into the house from the back porch. Josh had an overwhelming urge to follow him, but Tyson and Desmond casually loped into position to block him from his master. Paul glanced back at Josh as he stepped into the house.

"You sure they won't fight?"

"They can't fight; Josh is muzzled. They'll bond. Don't worry, it's how they make friends. They won't hurt Josh."

Paul left with Donovan into the house. Josh was left squatting on the lawn with the two huge, strange anthro dogs. Neither of the two were muzzled or restrained in any way, but neither had made a sound since Josh had first laid eyes on them. For now, they both remained where they were - motionless on the edge of the tiled porch. They hunched over into gorilla-like postures and glared silently at Josh.

The malamute growled without even moving his lips. It was a low sound which emanated from deep within his throat. Josh's heart had begun to hammer in his chest, and he whined through his ring-gag. The Rottweiler - Tyson - snarled slightly at him; his black and brown lips curling slightly to reveal white canine teeth. The malamute quickly rose to all-fours and began to advance on Josh. The Rottweiler followed silently - the two of them advancing on him from different angles.

Josh felt panic flutter through his chest. He had no escape route. The yard was entirely closed in, save for the path which went around the house and the door into the house itself - both these routes were blocked by the enormous advancing canines. Where was his master? Josh prayed Paul would step out of the house at any second to rescue him from these two huge dogs.

The malamute closed to within a metre of Josh and stopped - glaring at him directly in the face with those terrible icy eyes. Josh was still sitting in his dog-pose - frozen by fear. He noted with alarm that between the thick back legs of the malamute, dangled an enormous engorged penis - the tip of which hung only an inch or two above the ground. He whined loudly now, as he noted the Rottweiler boasted a similar, knotted erection. Both dogs were close enough for him to smell and taste the scent of their dominant maleness - it was the first thing that day which had managed to cut through the odour of Paul's urine. Josh had now begun to shake with fear, as the two enormous dogs sniffed him. Still, he sat on the lawn without moving - he didn't know what he could do.

The malamute growled again - this time louder, and with a drawn lip. He then launched himself at Josh - stopping only centimetres in front of his face, and let loose one loud, vicious bark of aggression. He snapped his jaws for emphasis as he did this, and snarled ominously afterwards.

Josh was crying silently and shuddering. He closed his eyes, and the tears ran down his cheeks. He wondered why the horrible malamute wouldn't leave him alone - couldn't he see that Josh was no threat to his dominance?

The Rottweiler growled now, and stalked around behind Josh. The Border collie could feel his hot breath on his neck. Then he felt the beast's maw brush against his right shoulder and rest against the nape of his neck. He felt Tyson's lip ripple against his soft throat, and then the hot hardness of teeth clamp down threateningly into it - not hard enough to cause pain, but hard enough for him to notice.

Josh whined mournfully - it sounded more like a moan. He knew what these dogs wanted from him. He felt Tyson shove him hard in the lower back, near his kidney, and he jerked his eyes open. The malamute was still staring at him and snarling, but now he had a smirk on his quivering muzzle. Tyson growled and shoved him again from behind, biting down into his neck at the same time - hard enough to elicit a yelp of pain in response.

Josh resigned himself to his fate - something he seemed to be doing often that weekend. He relaxed his arms and hunched down on the ground - revealing his white-furred bottom to the enormous Rottweiler behind him. Tyson growled again, but this time it sounded almost like a laugh - more triumphant than vicious.

Josh's eyes were closed as he huddled down in the grass. He felt one Rottweiler arm brush against his side as the huge dog began to mount him. The teeth stayed at their position on the side of his throat. He whimpered as he felt something hot and hard brush against his bottom, and finally find its target - Josh's puckered tail-hole.

Once he had lined up, the Rottweiler rammed his impressive dog-meat home up to its knot, and then all the way back out again. He did this three or four times, and then he rammed the knot itself in - continuing to thrust with his meat jammed inside the much smaller dog.

Josh screeched, and buried his face in the grass. Tyson's penis was enormous - dry as it was, it felt like it had ripped something going in. He heard laughter from somewhere nearby - he hadn't noticed, but Paul and Donovan had returned with their beers, and were sitting at the table on the porch watching their dogs "play" on the lawn.

"They look like they're having fun."

"Haha, I told you they'd make friends quickly."

Josh wasn't having fun. His insides were being mashed by Tyson's huge, dry prick ramming its way up inside him. He was screaming and crying, but the muzzle he wore turned this into incoherent whimpering.

Desmond the malamute was apparently getting annoyed at Tyson hogging all the fun, and Josh heard him growl somewhere above his head. Tyson released his grip from Josh's neck, but continued to thrust painfully. The relief from his neck was short, and Josh realised Tyson had grabbed the leash attached to the choke-chain in his mouth.

Continuing to fuck his new "friend", Tyson pulled back on the chain in his mouth for the sake of Desmond, who was getting very jealous. Josh gagged as the chain closed around his throat and abruptly cut off his windpipe - Tyson yanked on the chain so that Josh's muzzled head drew level with Desmond's huge canine cock which hung in front of his muzzled face. Abruptly, Desmond pushed his cock into Josh's forced-open maw, and Josh felt the pressure from the chain around his neck ease slightly. It didn't help that his muzzle was now full of thick dog meat, though, and when he reflexively gasped for breath, he gagged on the thick penis in his mouth.

Desmond began to thrust into Josh's muzzle - the tip of his cock proceeding down his throat with every such thrust. Josh felt like he would choke to death on the huge dog penis skull-fucking him.

So there he lay in the cool grass of Donovan's backyard that late Saturday morning - Paul and Donovan sat relaxing a few feet away, sipping their beers, while he lay hunched on the lawn - being fucked from two ends by two strangers. The thrusting from either end formed a constant rhythm with his own grunting - the only sound he could make with the huge cock in his aching maw.

"Dog's are funny, you know. My two are usually the sweetest little puppies you could think of. Look how dominant they are over your dog, though."

"Josh is very submissive."

After what seemed like hours, the dog in his behind eventually came - Josh felt a hot river erupt deep inside him somewhere, and gradually the thrusting lost its rhythm and stopped altogether. By this stage, his insides felt numb, with only a deep throbbing of pain somewhere in his belly. The only indication that the Rottweiler had enjoyed himself was that he'd started panting happily - he eased back with his knot still jammed inside Josh.

It wasn't long after that the malamute came in his mouth - a tsunami of hot, salty slime which rushed for the back of Josh's throat in waves. It would have drowned him had it gone down the wrong way, but Josh swallowed it all -a slimy torrent down his oesophagus to sit hot in his belly with the urine and dog food of that morning.

The malamute extracted his cock first - it slid out of Josh's muzzle, leaving him to pant and choke into the grass. He inhaled deeply, and accidentally inhaled some of the slime still in his mouth. He hacked it into the grass. With his muzzle forced open like it was, rivulets of left-over juices dripped from it, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The Rottweiler's cock remained inside him like a hot iron rod. Josh hoped the foul creature would remove it, but he didn't - it remained inside him. He felt Tyson bend forward again, and the cock bumped painfully against his innards - he yelped weakly in response. Tyson was bending forward to nibble on the back of Josh's neck the way dogs do to rid themselves of fleas and ticks.

The malamute departed after a short while, casually back to his kennel where he drank water from a silver bowl before lying down. Josh lay motionless in the grass, silently crying while the dog who had just brutally raped him now extended him the bizarre courtesy of nibbling his neck for fleas (he didn't have any fleas, of course). Josh noticed the malamute's slimy penis as he departed - the one he had almost choked to death on. It was still somewhat engorged, and Josh guessed this was why the Rottweiler hadn't extracted his own cock yet - the knot was still stuck inside him.

Josh noticed now, in the quiet aftermath of his rape, that Donovan and his master had been sitting at the porch table with their beers, casually chatting the whole time while bearing witness to the brutal scene. Josh had been violently raped by two strangers - who seemed very little more than animals - and his master had simply watched, while trading dog-training anecdotes with Donovan.

Right then, Josh felt more like a pathetic animal than he had ever before. He really was nothing more than a dog - a small, submissive dog at that, whose primary function to its master was that of a simpering slave. To other male dogs, he was nothing more than a bitch in heat - something to be raped for its weakness at the pleasure of those stronger than it.

He moaned softly into the grass. He had never felt more low and wretched in his whole life, and yet somehow... Somewhere deep inside him, he was enjoying this. He felt like the lowest omega-bitch on the face of the planet, and yet he felt as though this was right. He felt as though he was doing what nature had intended for him. Nature had not intended for him to make his own decisions, but for him to be subject to the whims of those stronger than himself. He felt his own penis now, for the first time, extended hot and hard into the prickly green lawn he was hunched down on. He whined again, but this time it was out of physical desire.

The Rottweiler mounting him finally decided to extricate its cock, which it did with a series strong tugs - yanking hard on Josh's backside, which caused him to yelp with pain.

As Tyson slowly extracted his cock, it bumped and rubbed repeatedly against Josh's abused prostate - apparently he'd gravely underestimated his own arousal from being abused, and he began to orgasm just as Tyson's cock was finally pulled free from his sphincter. Josh's much smaller pink prick pumped his seed into a pathetic puddle on the grass below him.

Suddenly Tyson was at Josh's throat - growling and snarling in his face. Desmond was also abruptly at him again - snapped and snarling.

"No! Down boys! Heel!"

Donovan was on his feet. Tyson and Desmond moved back slowly from Josh, but continued to growl. Josh was lying on his side - bewildered and shocked. His heart thumped in his chest, and he felt adrenaline course through him.

"Oh, Paul! Your dog should know that its suicide to leave its mark on the territory of a dominant dog! If I wasn't here, they might have hurt him badly!"

"Sorry, Donovan, he's not used to other dogs. I guess I haven't trained him well enough with regards to self-control."

Donovan turned to his own two dogs again.

"Bad boys! You don't attack dogs belonging to my friends! Get into your kennels immediately! I'll deal with you later!"

Still growling, the two huge rapists skulked off to their kennels to brood.

"It would be unfair on them if I punished them, but they didn't see Josh get punished for disrespecting them. You should punish him here, in front of them."

"Alright. How about I try out that method you were discussing with me? You say you used it to tame those two? It should teach Josh a lesson he won't forget."

"Not a bad idea. Come, that tree over there is where I do it to my two."

Paul picked up Josh's leash and yanked him to his feet - he gagged as he struggled up to slacken the choke-chain.

They proceeded to one of the few large trees in Donovan's yard - it was a wide evergreen with thick, low branches which extended some distance horizontally.

As they approached, Donovan unclipped a pair of handcuffs off his belt that Josh hadn't noticed before. He handed them to Paul.

"Cuff its paws behind its back and throw its leash over that branch."

Paul complied with Donovan's directions - first ordering Josh to sit-up, and then handcuffing him. Donovan himself fetched a large, colourful beach ball lying nearby, as well as what looked like a dog-toy - it was a thick, wound length of rope about two feet long with one end wound and thickened into a heavy ball.

"Alright, now pull on the leash and just let him hang for a bit. Hehe."

Paul did, and Josh felt the choke-chain snap taught around his throat as he was lifted into the air - his windpipe was crushed, and he hacked loudly through his open muzzle as he dangled from his neck. His feet kicked, but there he hung, naked, about a foot above the ground. He desperately danced to save himself, but it was pointless. He hacked and gagged for breath as he dangled.

"Just let him hang for a few seconds."

Josh felt his face grow hot, and the veins in his eyes swell. He desperately attempted to inhale, but his lungs drew nothing through his crushed trachea. It felt like his head would be ripped from his body by his own weight.

"Alright, drop him onto the ball."

Josh felt himself descend, mercifully. However, his flailing feet did not find solid ground, but rather the soft rubber of the beach-ball which Donovan had placed under him. He felt himself descend onto it, but not all his weight was taken off his throat. His choke-chain still clamped around his neck, but now he was able to draw wheezing gasps through his compressed throat - if only he could keep his balance on the accursed beach-ball! The ball tended to roll beneath his feet, which were barely able to keep tip-toe on it. Each time it rolled to one side, he desperately clawed it back with a foot as his weight descended upon his neck.

"Alright, good. Let me hold the leash - you can administer the blows. Normally I get the dog I'm not punishing to help me hold the leash - you can also tie it off on something, but it's easier to have someone hold it, and also safer."

Paul handed the leash to Donovan, and Josh felt his weight briefly fall onto his neck - cutting off his wind again. He hacked through his drooling muzzle.

Paul walked around in front of him and picked up the short length of rope Donovan had retrieved.

"Josh, you've been a bad boy! You have to learn how to control your urges! This is a lesson which you won't forget in a hurry!"

"No, he won't," Donovan interjected.

"The nice thing about this punishment is that his neck and body will ache for days afterwards, to help reinforce the conditioning. Try to evenly space your blows between his stomach and his chest - hitting the stomach will hurt more now, but bruised ribs will hurt him next week."

"How hard should I hit him?"

"You don't have to use much effort. There's a lot of force in that rope just by swinging it."

Paul swung the rope slowly, and the ball at the end slammed into Josh's stomach. He gagged from the force - it felt like someone had punched him there hard. His body instinctively wanted to bend itself around the pain, perhaps into a foetal position, but hung as he was, he could not.

The second strike hit the right side of his ribcage. The bones in his chest resounded with the bright, bruising pain - the kind that lingers long after the strike has happened.

The third strike hit him square on the sternum. The ribs which enclose the chest cavity join there, and many thousands of nerve endings terminate with them. Pain blasted into Josh's skull, and he desperately gagged and choked through his crushed neck and hopelessly drooling muzzle. He lost his balance on the beach ball below him, and he dangled morbidly from the neck again. Donovan casually manoeuvred the ball back under Josh's wildly swinging feet, and he gasped with relief when they finally found balance.

The fourth strike came up from below to slam into his belly - driving up under his ribs and crushing his solar plexus. The pain was indescribable. It filled Josh's now-blurred vision with stars, and he desperately hacked saliva from his open maw. He couldn't breathe - with or without the choke-chain tight around his neck, the blow to the diaphragm had left him winded, and he simply could not inhale.

Further strikes slammed into his chest and belly, but his mind lost the ability to distinguish one from the other. Desmond and Tyson quietly watched from their kennels only metres away - only Tyson was near enough to hear the quiet chuckle of contempt from Desmond. Their sadistic enthusiasm for another's suffering was, however, somewhat dampened by their knowledge of their own promised punishment. They had, of course, grown very used to it by this stage.

Josh was hovering on the verge of unconsciousness. By now, the blows had ceased to be moments of unique, bright pain - each strike served only to contribute to the general agony which held his skinny, dangling torso in a vice-grip. Just as his vision was narrowing to black tunnel, his master said something to Donovan, and the pressure on his neck abruptly ceased to be. He fell forward - slamming onto his knees, and then onto his face in the grass. A silent numbness of sorts had come over him, and all he could hear was his own breath - gasping hungrily now for oxygen. All he could feel was the pain coursing through his battered body like a flood.

"Ha ha. If that doesn't teach him to control himself, nothing will."

Josh silently vowed that he would never allow himself to orgasm again. He would chew off his own testicles if need be.

Perhaps he wouldn't need to. As he lay quivering and drooling silently in the grass, he felt a hard boot on his hip shove him over onto his side and then onto his back. He was blinded by white sunlight just as that same boot descended onto his exposed scrotum, and still semi-engorged penis. Despite the lack of oxygen to his brain, and the beating which had left his entire body throbbing with bruised agony, the pain from his master's boot brutally flattening his testes against his pelvis jerked up through his body like lightning. He yelped and hacked loudly into the air - arching his back and moaning from the agony.

"Heh, well, almost nothing."

Josh lay there for what seemed like a long time - handcuffed, naked, on his back, staring up into the white sky above him. Through the sarcophagus of pain which entombed his body, he managed to feel a liquid warmth spread from him crushed groin. He moaned softly to himself, for he knew that his conditioning to be a good doggy had barely begun.