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Rex (by Mr Foxy Paws)

"We'll take that one," said the young man. Rex squinted out of his cage at the crop-haired guy in T-shirt and shorts. The guy who was pointing at Rex's cage. Rex had been stuck in the pound for weeks, waiting for a new owner, but now that one had come along he felt distinctly nervous. In fact, he really needed a pee but now wasn't the time.

"Sure, that's Rex. Young dalmatian pup, pretty much house-trained, full of energy, a bit wild at times but very loyal. You'll need to be strict with him to begin with, let him know who's boss, that kind of thing, but he's a good choice." Eric unlocked the cage and reached in to hook a leash on Rex's collar, but Rex had suddenly got cold paws about leaving.

The pound was pretty clean and the cages were large enough to stretch out inside, but they were pretty bare - though at least he knew what he got, and that was food and water and shelter from the cold. OK so the food was pretty boring, and he didn't have any toys, but the pound gave him fresh bedding every day and that came to be his source of comfort: newspaper was wonderful. It was really just to provide some form of warm bedding, and to absorb any "accidents" he might have, but one day when licking his paws he missed and took a long slurp of paper by mistake and found out that it was something you could chew. You could bite. You could tear. You could scrap and scratch. They even had their own smells; he couldn't read the writing, but different days he seemed to get different types and quality of paper.

Rex backed into the corner of his cage. He liked his cage now. And his newspaper. He was happy; he wanted to stay.

"Come on Rex," said Eric, reaching further into the cage. Rex whined and, in a moment of sudden fear, his bladder contracted and he weed a bit on the paper. "Naughty Rex!" said Eric sternly.

"What was that?" asked Richard.

"He's just peed a bit on the paper, that's all. Don't worry, some dogs do that, it's the nerves. Even so, mate, I think you should make him sleep on newspaper for a while until you're sure he's fully trained."

"Don't worry," said Richard, "I'll make sure he's fully trained. Here, let me have a go."

Richard took the leash from the pound master and reached into the cage. Rex raised his nose and sniffed. It was the finest scent he had smelled in his life. Not dog scent, mind you. No, not the scent of a bitch on heat, and not that even better scent of another pup just come of age, but even so ... and he couldn't quite put a paw on it ... but even so his little instinctive doggy senses knew that he could trust the owner of the arm that was reaching into his cage. A disciplined, masterful and self-controlled alpha-male. Rex padded forward a couple of steps and dutifully lowered his head.

Click.

Richard attached the leash and pulled gently; Rex hopped out of the cage and onto the floor.

"Remember," said Eric, "any problems then bring him back." He paused, "And, remember to be firm."

*

Rex's tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth as he sat in the passenger seat of the small sports car, the breeze ruffling his fur and driving back his floppy ears. He turned to look at his new master, who in turn reached out a hand and petted him on the head. "Ruff!" barked Rex. He wriggled his little bottom, feeling the warm soft leather of the car seat underneath, and he felt a little erection starting. He flopped down onto his furry little belly, trying to hide it, but that just ended up pushing his little pup-hood even harder against the seat which was thrumming with energy as the powerful car weaved through the country roads. It felt good. It felt very good. It had been a long, long time since someone or something else had pleasured him; the best he'd been able to do was lick himself and that wasn't quite the same. Now he was finding exquisite pleasure throbbing beneath him, and he wriggled lower and stretched out to flatten his little pup cock tight against the leather until he felt long-forgotten jolts of pleasure run through his body.

"Right, Rex, here we are," said his new master. Rex sat up, perked his ears, and looked at the large mansion in front of them. He looked right, and left, and saw vast expanses of trees and lawn, trees and lawn, trees and lawn.

"Yeuch, what's that?" cried Richard. "Rex, what have you been doing?" Richard looked down at the seat by his side, at the small creamy deposit, and then at Rex's weeping puppy member. "Rex, bad dog! Bad, bad dog." Rex dropped his ears and dipped his head. Richard dipped his finger into the mess and sniffed it tentatively; it was definitely puppy cum. He held his finger out beneath Rex's nose. "See this? Smell this? What's that all about then? Who's going to clean this seat, huh? Do you know how long it will take? Bad, bad dog."

Rex whimpered, knowing he'd done wrong, but not sure how to make amends. With sad wide eyes, he looked up at his new master. What could he do to make amends? He stuck out his tongue and with one broad sweep he licked his master's finger clean. Then, bending his head down between his legs, he lapped at the leather seat, cleaning up every drop of spilled doggy pleasure. Finally, questioningly, he turned to look back at his master.

"Hmm, it's a bit late to apologise, but it looks as if you know you did wrong. Just don't do it again, ok boy?" Richard opened his door, and Rex bounded after him towards the house.

*

"Here's where you'll sleep," said Richard, pointing to a large blue rubber basket in the corner of the kitchen. "I've lined it with paper, after your accident, and it will stay that way until you learn to control yourself more. There's a bowl of water, and i've put scraps in the other bowl. There's a bone from the butcher, and a rubber ball. I think that's all you need?" Richard unclipped the leash and Rex bounded to the basket and settled himself down. His new home.

"Whoa, I think you need to go for a walk first. Do your business. You can sleep later. Come on boy, let's go out." Rex had other ideas, though, having found the newspaper, and just wanted to settle down and sleep. "No, no. We're going walkies. Walkies, Rex, come on," said Richard. Rex whined. "Now!" said Richard sternly. Rex stood up, hung his head, and trotted to his master's feet. Richard patted him on the head. "Good boy; you do as you're told, and you'll be just fine. Come on, let's go for a walk in the woods." And the two of them headed out of the back door.

It had been months since Rex had gone for a walk in the countryside, and he kept snuffling the air whilst his tailed thrummed constantly this way and that. He padded beside his master, glancing up every few steps, panting slightly with his tongue lolling in and out, up and down from the side of his mouth. He felt the breeze gently caress his coat, and when they walked through longer grass he felt the blades tickle his soft underbelly, catching and teasing his little puppy member which responded by swelling and straightening. They emerged into a clearing and Richard sat down on an old log to catch his breath; Rex sat patiently by his side, cocking his head to look up at his master. His master whom he now knew he loved and would always love more than any other. But how could he show this? How could he express his love to his master? Well there was only one way, really, so Rex got up on his hind legs and started humping his master's trouser leg. A sure sign of love and affection.

"What? What are you doing, you little nutter? You sex crazy? Huh? Huh? Well if you really want to show your affection..." and with that Richard unzipped his flies letting his plump cock fall out into the fresh air. "If you want to show your affection, boy, here's the way to do it. Please your master!"

Rex's eyes widened. He looked up at his master, unsure whether this was a present or a punishment, a threat or a reward. He pushed his snout into his master's crotch and sniffed. Ah, that glorious smell of alpha male, far stronger even than he'd picked up at the pound. He nuzzled the cock with his wet snout, and felt its warmth and stiffness. He pushed out his long floppy tongue and curled it around the end of the member; Richard helped by pulling down his trousers and underwear to fully expose his cock and balls. "Woof!" barked Rex, who immediately started lapping at the hairy orbs, his strong tongue wrapping around them, pushing them together, now to the left, now to the right, and when Richard pulled back his foreskin to expose the shiny cock-head then Rex knew what was expected. A humble pup, he was being honoured by the alpha-male in being allowed to pleasure him - and Rex would certainly do his best. He lapped the cock from above, and from below. From the tip to the base, and the base to the tip. He slathered it with drool, then licked it dry, his rough tongue conveying intense electric pleasure to the manhood's owner. In the wood, in the clearing, in the open air, master and pup became a single frenzy of panting and thrusting and pulsing heartbeats and throbbing cock and agile tongue, until Richard finally spent his load and Rex finally tasted his first reward. Then, the two of them walked home in a tired but contented silence, arriving back shortly after midnight.

*

Unfortunately, during the excitement of the previous evening, Rex had forgotten to "do his business" when outside and consequently - during the night - he soiled his basket. It wasn't deliberate; in fact he did it while dreaming (a strange recurring dream he had, of all the other dogs in the pound gathering around him and peeing peeing peeing on him). But Richard wasn't to know it was an accident...

"What's that stink? Oh no, Rex. No, no. You've soiled your bed haven't you? Your first night here, and already you can't be trusted. Oh Rex, and you know i have to be firm with you, don't you? Outside, now!" Rex slunk outside, terribly ashamed of himself, and hoping not to be sent back to the pound. A moment later, his master appeared, carrying the large rubber basket which he dumped in the middle of the lawn. "Right, Rex, into the basket!" he ordered. Rex looked confused. What kind of punishment was this? "Into the basket! You take your punishment like a good pup, or it's back to the pound with you, and heaven knows who you'll get next but I doubt you'll find a fairer master than me." Rex didn't understand all the words, but he felt their meaning, and saw the pointing finger, and recognised his basket, so went to sit in it and waited patiently. Richard looked down at him.

"Soiling your bed is bad, Rex. Piss stinks. Piss is not nice. You need to learn that, Rex, and the sooner you do, well the better. Lie on your back, Rex. Roll over, on your back." Rex obliged and close his eyes, then heard what sounded like a zipper being undone, followed by a rustle of clothes. Suddenly he felt warm rain falling. Warm rain in a steady powerful stream. And yet it didn't smell like rain, not that soft natural earthy scent of clouds and flowers - this was a stream of alpha-male piss. His master was pissing on him, from his head down to his little cock and balls, and then back again, as Rex lay flat on his back with his little furry legs in the air. And as Rex lay there, his little cock hardened further, becoming erect, jutting out, just at the smell of the piss and the feel of the warmth and at the knowledge that he was being properly and correctly punished by his master. A minute or so later, the stream stopped but Rex knew better than to move, especially when he heard the command "Stay!". Shortly afterwards, not daring to open his eyes, he heard the sound of hammering and when finally his master said "All done" and Rex sat up he found that his leash had been fixed to a large tent peg driven into the ground. "Well we can't have you back inside like that, so you need a good hose down, I think," and with that, Rex was suddenly struck by a fierce jet of cold water. "All over," added Richard.

And so it was that, collared and leashed, tied to a stake in the ground, standing on all fours and exposed in the middle of the lawn, Rex found himself undergoing a thorough cleaning. Richard didn't miss anywhere. He ran the hose over the pup's back and flanks, then up and down the legs, and paid particular attention to the underbelly and meticulous attention to the little pup's genitals ("your precious bits" as Richard called them). He cleaned behind Rex's ears, a little too forcefully the young pup thought, and made sure to lift up his tail and clean carefully and thoroughly there as well. Then after a good fifteen minutes of hard scrubbing, Richard produced an old towel and started drying off the pup, briskly rubbing the towel back and forth, back and forth, over all of his body. Once again, to his embarrassment, Rex's little pup cock grew hard again.

"Tch, well maybe you're just like i was as a kid," said Richard. "Always randy. Hey, I've an idea. Wait there. Stay boy!" he said and disappeared off to a nearby shed. Rex waited patiently, and a few moments later his master returned carrying some kind of inflatable object. "It's a sheep," said Richard proudly. "An inflatable sheep. From a novelty shop. Anatomically correct, too. Well, after a fashion." He set the sheep down in front of Rex.

"Mount her, then," he said. "You're a randy little pup, right? You want to get your rocks off? Well, boy, yes you can do that, but only when your master allows. When, and where, and how your master allows. Now's your chance. You want to climax, from now on, you have to indicate that to me, and i'll decide. If you want to cum, you fuck this inflatable sheep here and now, in front of me."

Rex blinked. The words made no sense to him - human words never would - but doggy perception is a pretty powerful affair and he realised that his master was on the one hand helping him, and on the other laying down some kind of rules. He looked at the sheep. But, he thought, it's a sheep. I'm a dog, and it's a sheep. An inflatable one at that. He sniffed at it - definitely plastic. But, instinctively, he sniffed at the tail end and that's when he noticed the hole ... and some ancient pup-hood instinct told him that, given the thing had four legs and a head, and some kind of hole under the tail, then it must be for fucking. And even if it wasn't a dog, well Rex's cock didn't care, and his master was standing and watching. And it didn't really feel right, fucking this non-dog non-pup thing, especially in front of the alpha-male, but then again if that was expected of him...

Richard lifted Rex's front legs and placed them on the sheep's back. "Go for it, boy. You might not be allowed another chance for a few days. Fuck 'er, boy, fuck 'er with your little furry boner."

Rex positioned himself closer, feeling the plastic brushing his undercarriage, shuffling a little left and a little right to get dead centre for perfect penetration, then cued up his little cock towards the tail and slid forwards for a perfect entry. Within moments, the sheep was being battered in ways its manufacturer could never have anticipated, and Rex was working himself into a real frenzy when suddenly there was a large *pop* and the inflatable burst. Rex first looked shocked, then guilty, then terrified that he'd done wrong. He started whining, whimpering, and hung his head low between his front paws.

"There, there," said Richard, laughing, "don't worry little boy, I guess it wasn't designed for puppy claws. No harm done. And, ah, you didn't quite finish huh?" Richard reached down and pulled some remaining bits of plastic off Rex's swollen knotted pup-cock. "You know, Rex," he said soothingly, "I may be the master around here but we're still a team. You know that, boy, right? And I said if you behave and do as you're told, then you'd be treated well? So, boy, roll over!" he said. Rex flopped down and rolled onto his back.

"Let's just see," said Richard, if I can't just finish off where you'd almost reached."

And with that, Richard bent down his head and with his mouth he sealed the start of their long friendship together.

Rex murred.

The End.