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Blade's Adventures - 04 - The ceremony

-You girly boy, bet the dogs down at the landfill would enjoy your ass ... - said again Blade with a smirk.

Diablo chuckled, thinking back at his half-brother's words.

-If you only knew that place well as me, hehe... -

The dogs of the junkyard never visited the landfill: it was a dirt place, with rats colonies growing under the small hills of junks and yelling white birds dropping everywhere their stinking white dung.

However Diablo found something else into the landfill, a place that he wasn't going to share with his brothers.

He was not guilty to deceive his Father's rules, after all (despite his name), Diablo wasn't the strongest dog of the junkyard and most of his brothers had much more fun than him.

-But not here, brothers!-

A guard was looking down to him: the dog was (as most of his relatives) a middle-size and shaggy mutt, mostly gray-furred with some white splashes.

The guard nodded and Diablo kept walking with triumphant expression.

Finally, he reached the open space: one of the temporary rally points for the landfill's dogs.

They were labeled as weird people by most of the dogs of the city, and kept afar both due their appearance, their habits, and a good deal of excess of fleas.

Timid eyes looked at him, from holes dug into the bags: the number of the small pack seemed decreased from his last visit, months ago.

-Your people is not going well, old one... -

The aged medicine-dog came out from a shelter of wooden panels; he was slightly larger than most of his followers and his shaggy fur was a bit longer, with tuft covering the eyes.

Diablo could not say if he has ever been white-pelted or he had lost the colors due his age.

-Welcome back, life-giver! Welcome to the People of the Morning Sun, last heirs of the laws given by the Spirits of our ancestors, may the blessing of Father Son and Mother Moon walks with... -

-Last time it was a widespread infection due rats-bites, to kill a pair of your followers, poor old fool... -

Diablo waited with bored expressions while the old dog was making his pompous monologue, learning that a new dogcatcher 's operation had captured and brought in kennel a pair of young males, forcing the whole pack to change shelter.

-But our misfortunes are temporary! The Ancestors gave me a sign of your coming, Life-giver! To keep alive and healthy our sacred community... -

-Yeah, of course... as if you've not realized it with a sniff at the rear of... -

Diablos' thoughts were suddenly cut off after the look at the small creature coming to him: because she seemed the most shining jewel that such sick place could generate.

The female was of middle-size as the other ones, but her gray fur was spotted with deep-black patches creating a real pretty appearance. Her shy expression could even add a touch of grace ...

-If just she wasn't so lean.-

Despite living into a landfill, the dogs weren't going to get much fat after the food scraps.

Not if they had to fight daily against hordes of huge and aggressive rats that quickly consumed the best.

-She's MorningFlower: she's been chosen for you, Life-Giver. The old rules forbade us to procreate among relatives, as you already know, sadly also this year has been a fruitless effort to convince new females to join our predestined community!-

-None sane female would ever like to live here... - he thought with reason.

-But we've been blessed with the genuine generosity of few external Life-givers as you! MorningFlower here has been sired by a noble Dalmatian male and once your coupling will be made, a new generation of life will blossom, and our community will manage once again to have new mating with less dependence from external blood!-

Diablo snorted, he was going to get tired of all that chatting.

He had learned the old guy's game some time ago, also the junkyard's dogs needed sometimes fresh blood and his mother had recently provided to this.

Still this landfill's pack was a community with self-imposed laws rather than an human master: it was however amusing how the old medicine-dog felt the need to justify with words the "disinterested" help of stranger males; Diablo was pretty much sure that the lucky guys that walked there by-case basis were just interested in catch the opportunity to hump a bitch, rather than fulfilling some sacred prophecy.

And Diablo wasn't much different from them.

The only exception was that a young male of the landfill had been dispatched to warn him and invite him to come once again: after the first time (resulted after a failed chase of a squirrel that run straight into the landfill), the old medicine-dog decided that the blood of a fighting dog was what his people needed.

While having such thoughts, Diablo had forgot the useless rituals the old fool was making: while prattling of prophecies and destiny, the medicine-dog soiled with colored stuff his fur, making some yellow and red stripes.

With amusement, Diablo noticed that the sacred painting were ketchup and mayo.

Under the eyes of the whole community, Diablo looked how Mornignflower walked toward him.

-Welcome Life-giver, my heart rejoice of the sacredness of our ritual!-

Her blue-eyes colors were shining of sincerity, the old fool had the habits to make a good work to indoctrinate young minds..

-Well... yeah, of course girl...- he said, and finally the pretty bitch turned and wagged a bit her tail.

Diablo lowered his muzzle, inhaling the fertile scents coming from her thin tail (probably inherited by his Dalmatian sire).

The old medicine-dog has sat down, with a satisfied expression, while the whole eyes of the community were on him.

The Doberman made a pair of steps, sniffing at the source of her smell and extended his tongue licking at the warm and puffy spade. He grinned; knowing that as the previous females he mounted there, Morningflower was surely a virgin.

-You don't want to inspect me, girl?- he offered, wagging a bit his stump of tail.

Her expression was a bit surprised, -Why I should doubt your virility, Life-giver?!- she said with soft voice.

-Damn... neither a normal and polite butt-sniff to know a bit each other!-

Diablo would have liked to yell by frustration: he had never been particularly attached to the females he mounted, but sharing some polite sniffing and words were common habits!

-Let's not waste other time.- come the low voice of the medicine-dog.

In some way, the Doberman believed he could not risk delaying further the sacredness of the ritual.

He grabbed the soft sides of the bitch with his fore-paws, while making few steps forward to bring closer his loins to her rear. Diablo extended his large chest and neck forward, laying it on the soft spotted fur of the smaller female, he wasn't putting all his weight on her but could not resist to the tempting feeling to stroke against her fur. There weren't too many fleas.

The Doberman licked his nose's tip, made a further step with the rear legs and finally felt his private parts bounce against the rear of the girl.

He smirked listening her yelp a little, as the dog's male-hood touched the sensible and already slightly wet pussy.

Diablo grunted and made a pair of tentative thrusts: it wasn't easy with virgin girls, because despite their "sacred preparation", none seemed to have bothered to instruct them about how react and meet the male's dick or tilt their pelvis.

The Doberman was however an expert lover and his sensible cock's tip found the small entry of the female's pussy: it was enclosed but wet and Diablo made a stronger thrust to sink into the small hole.

Morningflower yelped of surprise and pain and made few instinctive attempts to move away, while virginal blood stained her rear legs: Diablo wasn't however on the habit of being sympathetic.

The she-dog was pretty, but she just one of that bunch of crazy dogs.

-You're regretting the sacrifice of your first blood in front of your beloved ancestors?- he teased a little.

-O...of course not, I'm.... I'm happy..... - she said, before giving a little moan.

Diablo had the doubt that maybe it was the old white fool that got more offended after the little tease.

He grinned, suddenly lifting his neck and getting a different grab on the sides of the bitch.

-Good... because I'm just here to give what they want: a litter of cubs sharing my blood.-

Licking his lips, he made an hump, sinking more of his cock inside the whelping little bitch: Diablo retreated a little, and made a second thrust.

Soon he started a full series of thrusts and each time it was accompanies by the liquid noise of both her blood and heat's juices that were spilled out after each push.

Pleasure started to make Diablo's mind a bit dizzy, and as soon as he increased the pace of his thrusts, the lower tract of his penis started to inflate inside the female's pussy.

The flesh swelled into a round knot that kept struck the male into the tight no-more-virgin dog.

As soon as that happened, Diablo closed his eyes and let out a moaning: his black orbs had little contractions and suddenly his cock started to pump the first load of boiling water-like cum inside the bitch.

Diablo let out a deep howling, his thrusting became frantic and he lifted the rear legs alternatively: soon the loads of cum started to be rich and abundant, until the peak of the orgasm of Diablo began slowly to decrease.

The Doberman rested his head on the female's shoulders, panting heavily. He remained there for few seconds, before pushing away his neck and dismounting from her tired body.

The dog remained struck inside her, thanks the knot, and he could observe his reddish flesh covered with blue veins almost coming out from her pussy: the flesh was still having some contractions, signs that cum was keeping on to be pumped inside her for some minutes again.

The sun was coming down the horizon and after some time he was freed from the deflated knot.

-We thank you, Life-Giver, once again. Your seed will make our people grow stronger and overcome the tests our ancestors and the spirits are forcing upon us, we ... -

Diablo gave little attentions to the old white dog, rather he attempted to catch the eyes of the small bitch.

He had mated stray females that were accustomed to getting pregnant each season; he had mounted refined bitches of high-breeds that were excited about having a forbidden adventure.

He had even forced his needs on less-consenting ones.

Diablo has never got feelings for them, but the various types of dialogues has been more stimulants than being covered with ketchup and mayo, breeding an indoctrinated little bitch, and having an old fart and his acolytes watching him.

-My pleasure, medicine-dog... if I would not abuse your hospitality, I would have enjoyed remaining for night. I'm in needs of some resting, before returning to my junkyard for dawn.-

-Of course, Life-Giver, you're welcome among us.... -

Among the garbage sacks, two pair of eyes glittered of different intensity.

One of pent-up curiosity, the other one of hatred.