BRIAN'S AMAZINGLY FAST TRANSFORMATION
Chapter 12
by Donny Mumford
As I'm unloading boxes of plastic picnic plates Mikey comes jogging up to tell Brett that Molly doesn't do the enemas, she has a veterinarian friend who comes in on Fridays to handle blocked-up dogs, which apparently isn't all that uncommon. Mikey finishes with, "Molly says to bring him down at four and she'll put him in the first group." Brett's like, "Okay, you take him down about three-thirty, just to be sure. I have no intention of disappointing Junior; he wants Brian cleaned out, and that's what he'll get. See that he gets the works too." Mikey goes, "Yes, sir," and Brett makes a cute face at him, then pinches his ass, saying, "You're looking good today, Mikey, but you need a haircut." Straightening his shoulders, Mikey tries to sound casual, but his voice cracks when he says, "You, too, Brett. Um, I meant to get a haircut after work yesterday, but something came up." Brett laugh a little at the "You too,"remark, then mumbles, "You're not gay are you?" but he asks that with a smile in his voice. Mikey's like, "Nooooo, you know I'm not," and Brett goes, "Whatever... here's a dollar, go get me a Yoo Hoo," and off Mikey goes on yet another errant for his boss. Those two are forming a special bond, probably a gay one although they'd never call it that. I gotta wonder what Ben would say about Mikey's flirting with Brett, that should prove interesting; not that I got the balls to bring it up... just saying. Brett and Ben going at it would be quite interesting too. Two dominant personalities for sure. Hmmmm....
Back with the soda, Brett tells Mikey to take my ring of teeth chastity device off before leading me down for my enema, but he's to leave it on for the trip to the barbershop. "Not everyone's open minded about transformations; there's still a lot of prejudice out there," he explains. Mikey's nodding his head, while I'm thinking, "Transformation? Is that what I'm in training for?" Then Brett says, "You should have gotten a haircut at my uncle's shop yesterday like you planned. I'll be putting you through a couple of procedures for the guests.
You're my assistant, but you're being trained too... you do understand that, right?" Mikey's like, "Oh, yes, Brett! I know I'm not nearly on your level." Brett tweaks his nose, then holds onto it pulling Mikey behind him; Mikey's bent over following Brett holding his wrist limply with both hands, quietly going, "ah, ah, oh...". I'm loading a dolly ten feet away so I hear everything. I stopped to watch Brett dragging my brother in the direction of Junior's workspace. Five minutes later, as I'm just about ready to push the loaded dolly, back onto the loading dock walks Brett and Mikey. Brett waves at me and yells, "Wait there, numbnuts!" When he's up to me, he says, "Run your brother over to my uncle's barbershop, Junior want's everyone looking sharp and shaped-up for the guests this afternoon. Go right there, and then right back here!" I'm like, "Yes, sir," as Mikey's fitting a dog collar around my neck, and then hooking a leash to it. Brett explains, "I want you to remember your place and stay in your dawg role; we've got guest today that Junior wants to impress." Then to Mikey, "After your haircut, take off his chastity ring, then get him down to Happy Tails Grooming for his enema... stay with him there, and bring him back as soon as you can. When he's back, all cleaned out, the chastity teeth go back on and I'll tell you the rest then." Mikey sort of shrugs, but doesn't say anything, and I can tell he doesn't like taking me for the enema thing... too yucky. I can see Brett begin to get mad, and then even madder; he smacks the back of Mikey's head, Mikey looks up, startled, and he gets another harder slap. "What?" asks Mikey. Another slap, "Ow!" and Brett says, "This haircut thing pisses me off, but it's just an example of how you're getting lax, Mikey, and I won't tolerate that!" Another slap, "Stand up straight!" and Mikey's at attention now with tears in his eyes, and fear just behind the tears.
These moments are rare, rare moments when Mikey's the one getting hammered and not me. I kind of enjoy them when they happen. Not that I don't adore and look up to Mikey, it's just that once in a while it's nice to see him acting like his old self. I try to make myself as small and invisible as possible, not a sound from me. Brett's pinching the longer hairs at the front of Mikey's head, pulling on it in tight bursts, talking quietly, but sternly, "It starts with little things, like forgetting to get your haircut, then the next thing is you forget to show me or Junior proper respect, then you give some back-talk, and by then you're useless to us. Do you want to continue as an assistant?" Mikey, in full retreat, back to his wimpy ways, says, "Yes, please, Brett..." "You gonna get yourself straightened out then, "Yes, sir... I promise." "Well, you've promised before and then slacked off, but I'll take your word this time. And, to remind you of that tell uncle you want the recruit's special haircut." Mikey's shoulders slump the same way they did when Ben told him to shave his pubes Wednesday night, he quietly says, "Yes, sir." Brett sends us on our way with another slap on the back of Mikey's head. In the car, as I'm driving, Mikey smokes two cigarettes on the way to the barbershop. Ben fouled the car and air conditioning system with cigarette smoke so I guess Mikey figures he might as well smoke in here as well. Mom will be pissed but we hardly ever see her, and Mikey has her wrapped around his little finger anyhow. She thinks he can do no wrong and she loves the way he orders me around. I'm beginning to think mom's another person who isn't real crazy about me. I gotta wonder why I thought I was a popular hot shot stud who guys wanted to be, and girls wanted to go out with... honest to god, I thought that's what my life was about back then before dad died, before we got poor. I mocked everyone back then, not really thinking I was mean, just goofing on the little people. It's ironic now because who's more of a little people person than me. Not that I feel sorry for myself; I'm improving and my little brother's a big part of that. Of course, since he's been reprimanded by Brett, Mikey's into pouting right now, and not talking. He'll rebound from this repute and get his game back soon enough. I miss it when he's not bossing me around.
Parking across the street from KNIGHT'S BARBERSHOP I ask, "You want me to come in with you, Mikey?" He snaps his head around, and smacks my face, "Don't be a wise-ass, Brian!" My face stings as I look down, then he says, in a softer manner, "If you were being sincere, I'm sorry I smacked you. I'm a bit tense at the moment, you know how I like my hair. What's a rookie special?" I tell him it's a very short haircut, clippers on the sides and back with hair at the forehead cut to one half inch and that gets shorter and shorter as the hairs taper back to the crown at a quarter inch, and sometimes an eight of an inch, depending. He goes, "Fuck!" and then says, "Yeah, you come in with me." He pulls me out the passenger side with my leash and leads me across the street to the shop. I'm doing my exaggerated bowlegged walk, my butt sticking back and down, which gets people to stop in their tracks watching little Mikey leading me by a leash. My face turns red as my old high school homeroom teacher from twelfth grade nods at me, and mumbles, "Brian..." I go, "Ah, um, hi, Mr. Rorcheck!" Mikey tugs on my leash and I stubble after him, my ass almost hitting the back of my heel. Inside the shop there's a customer getting his haircut so Mikey sits in a waiting chair and has me lay at his feet in a fetal position. The barber and the customer snicker and whisper among themselves. Sure, I'm embarrassed, but I try to think of something else. When it's Mikey's turn, he gives me a stern, "Stay!" order, and, as he's getting into the chair, he says to the barber, "I'm to get a Junior and Brett's rookie special haircut." The barber snickers again, saying, "Ya know, pets ain't allowed in my shop so don't fucking bring your dog next time!" I look up and see the barber smirking as red-faced Mikey's mumbling his apologies. That damn kid acts like a wimp for everybody but me! The clippers are turned on and in less than ten minutes we're back outside. Mikey's in shock as he runs his fingers over the short, short hair bristles left on his head. He goes, "Fuck!" again, then lights another cigarette. Inside the barber shop, when he was finishing up on Mikey's head, the barber laughed at me, saying, "Hey baldy, do not pee on the floor or I'll kick your ass!" I looked down and kept my mouth shut wondering if he's fully aware what his nephews are up to, but thinking back to the strange encounter with the boy's father and grandfather behind the Goodwill building, I wouldn't be surprised if this prick knew everything their up to. I mean, this guy's Junior's and Brett's uncle, so he knows! In the car again, on our the way back to BJ's, Mikey's feeling what's left of his beautiful hair, saying nothing. I don't feel sorry for him though, he dissed Brett for one thing, for another, I'll probably never see another hair anywhere on my body, so what's his beef? Junior's the first person we see as we're walking into the locker room to remove my chastity ring, me bowlegged as all get out; Mikey leading me by my leash. Junior shoots his index finger at Mikey's haircut, saying, "That's what I'm talking about! Looking shaped-up now, dude!" Mikey tries to smile but it comes out as a pout, not that Junior's paying attention one way or the other... he don't give a fuck as long as he gets things his way.
In the locker room, Mikey unhooks my leash, and, regaining his bravado, orders me to, "Get undressed and assume the position!" I'm used to him taking his frustration out on me, but I wasn't expecting a paddling today. As Mikey walks over to click the lock on the doorknob, Brett hustles through it and sees Mikey's haircut, "Alright, Mikey! Junior told me you're back and looking good." Then Brett turns to me, and says, "I heard your brother tell you to get undressed and assume the position, mister!" I hustle to do that, as Brett acts sweet to my brother, whispering things that I can't hear, and rubbing Mikey's head and shoulders, then pulling Mikey against him for a hug. I can just barely hear Mikey say, "Yes, Brett, I understand... thanks for being so nice about it." One more pull of Mikey against him, and Brett's gone. Mikey's got the sparkle back in his eyes now, and the command in his voice is back too, "Get that ass up," then "SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!" and the tears are forming in my eyes, but I know better than to squirm or cry out. Mikey's breathing fast as he continues, "SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!!" the last two smack, as usual, against the tender skin on the back of my thighs. "Get up at attention!" I do that painfully, hurting back there as Mikey collapses on the locker bench, his head in his hands; the paddle bouncing on the floor; Mikey just drops the damn thing. Now he's running his fingers over his shorn head, muttering to himself, "Ben's gonna be pissed!" After a minute or two, he looks up at me standing there at attention, and says, "Okay, I owe ya one. I took it out on you that I was ordered to get this haircut, and it was my own fault... I was being lazy. So, the next time you need a paddling, you get a pass. Fair enough?" It most certainly isn't, you little prick... not that I said that.
Instead I said, "Yes, sir. Thank you," which is stupid because what an I'm thanking him for? He'll just make up some bogus reason I need a spanking and say that's the one he owed me. See how I get? At times I get pissed at my brother, but I'm already getting over it. Look at him sitting there with a ultra short buzz cut, worried about what his bud will think of it. Mikey's so fucking cute! He's back on his feet with new resolve in his eyes, "Get in the paws up position!" is my command, and when I'm on my back, paws in the air, he uses a tiny key to unlock the padlock and removes the ring of teeth chastity device drawing blood on my dick as he does it. A quiet, "Ow," slips out of my mouth causing Mikey to snap his head up, and ask, "You got a problem. Brian?" I go, "No, Michael... I'm good, thanks." He tells me to get dressed and in twenty second I do that; my pink panties, BJs' shorts and shirt are back on my skinny body, my sneakers and socks too. I'm standing at attention when Mikey walks over and attaches my leash to my dog collar; pulling on it roughly, he says, "Come on... move it! I'll get you down to HAPPY TAILS GROOMING for your enema." I need the relief badly, I've been constipated for about ten days now. Mikey won't let me use the bathroom half the time, and when he does he stands over me saying, "Hurry up, we're wasting valuable training time!" Nobody could go to the bathroom under those circumstances... ya know what I mean?
Walking through the shoppers, being led on a leash, you'd think I'm feel self conscious... well, I do of course, but it's a matter of degree; compared to other embarrassing ways to get from the gym to the grooming shop, this is a walk in the park. Also it's nice to have the pin-pricking chastity ring off although I'm still walking bowlegged, from habit. A few rude comments, some of which get Mikey chuckling, but mostly I block it out and keep my eyes straight ahead. Kids from my old neighborhood seeing me walking like this being led by a leash is the worst part, and school teachers from my high school and middle school too. They're all over the place, like that homeroom teacher outside the barbershop.
What are ya gonna do though?! Inside the grooming shop we need to wait with a number of other dogs and their owners until Molly finishes up with something in the grooming area. One of the customers, the one with a collie on a leash, says to Mikey, "It's sorta unorganized here, Molly really needs a receptionist, don'cha think?" Mikey pulls on my leash roughly to get me away from the window, and says, "Yes, ma'am, it would sure speed things up." The woman hadn't been aware I was at the end of the leash Mikey was holding and when she sees me react to the leash pull her eyes open wide, she looks from me to Mikey, then slowly turns her head and sort of drifts back away from us. My face blushes as Mikey bites his lip to keep from laughing, and then Molly comes out to announce, "If you're here with a constipation dog, I'll take you in first!" Mikey pulls on my collar and we follow a man with a bulldog on a leash through the door. As the humiliation of my situation worsens jaws drop on the other customers and my body turns a dark red color, but fuck it, I need to take a crap!
Inside Molly motions to Mikey that I need to get on all fours; he smacks my ass, saying, "Down, boy!" and I get on all fours as the man with the bulldog looks on with disbelief, but just shakes his head. Molly takes me for granted now and I feel comfortable with her so I lean against her leg and she reaches down to pat my side, saying, "I'll hobble the animals with leg restraints so it'll be easier to move them when the veterinarian, Dr. Fecus, is ready in the back room. Me and the bulldog stay still as Molly puts restraints on our front and back paws, then connects the two so we can only take awkward two inch steps. Unhooking our leashes she says to the owners, "You all can wait or come back for them in an hour and a half or so." I'm thinking, "Half hour or so? Junior said ten minutes... but, nothings that easy, I shoulda known." Molly picks me up the way she always does, an arm across my chest and an arm under my butt, and carries me to a holding cage. The bulldog is my roommate and he sniffs all around my ass, but thankfully it's a bitch so no worries about getting fucked by her. Mikey says he'll be back for me as the door clicks shut on my case. That universal dog smell permeates everything thing in the grooming shop, totally understandable I guess, but it becomes a cloying thing after a while. I'd have thought I'd be used to it by now, but no, it gags me at times and the bulldog is quite odoriferous too so this is one of those times. I try holding my breath but the dog is very active which has her odor waifing around our cage and I have a short throw-up in my mouth. I spit it out and the bulldogs all over it, smelling it a nudging it with her snout... gag me with a fuckin' spoon! I close my eyes and think of something else, and it turns out to be Brett and Mikey my mind drifts to. I've bonded with the boys so totally now, been through so much with them I can't imagine going away to college and not being under their control for months at a time. Then I can't believe I even had that stupid thought! What the fuck's wrong with my head... but, of course, the brainwashing. Heh heh, had me worried there for a minute: bag college to be the boy's dawg? Surely you can't be serious! And then my cage door is opening and Molly puts a slip collar on the bulldog, then me; we take tiny steps, straining against our leg restraints, over to a flatbed dolly were six other dogs are hooked up to. "Is this the total lot of the blocked dogs?" a thin man asks.
He's wearing a dark suit with a pinstriped black structured fedora on his head, from the hat band flows a fluffy ten inch feather. I'm frowning, trying to figure out what this guy is all about; then he turns around and I see his pencil mustache... Pimp! pops into my head, but what's a pimp need with eight constipated dogs? Molly says, "Yes Dr. Fecus, these are all the blocked pups for this week." He nods, does a double take when I'm hooked up, then Molly says, pointing at me, "He's the one I told ya about; he gets the same treatment as the rest," Dr. Fecus has a high pitched voice, he says, "Fucking college fraternity stunts! Their parents would be so proud!" Molly does her big laugh, then says, "You're only young once... these kids will have this story to retell all their lives." Dr. Pimp waves at her, muttering, "Who the fuck would admit to this," then, a woman dressed in green hospital garb pushes the flatbed through swinging doors into the back room; it smells like dog shit in here.
Along the wall are ten to twelve college age students, "Dr. Fecus, in a lecturing manner, addresses the group, "As you've learning in veterinarian school, dogs spook easily during this procedure, which is why their hobbled. We want to gives relied to these creatures who might die if their constipation is never addressed." There's murmuring among the students as more and more of them turn their attention away from the pimp, to me. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but it's the audiences I can't take. Why must there always be an audience? My face is scarlet red as the doctor notices the attention being given me, and he says sarcastically. "Ah yes, I only found out about this fifteen minutes ago... that's a wise-ass frat boy tied up and waiting for an enema. He's obviously paying off a bet, or more likely, this is his second pay off... he's had a full body shave apparently as well. We're to pretend he's just another dog, okay? Now pay attention to what I'm saying....." and he continues with his lecture as the chatter among the students continues. I can't resist peeking out the side of my eyes at the group, most of whom are females. They're all looking closely at me and discretely pointing one thing or another out about me to their friends. Hand go up in front of their mouths as they laugh and mock me. The heat from my body gets me sweating, which makes me look even more ridiculous. I let myself wonder how the fuck did I ever get myself in this situation, but my mind drifts to the positive parts of this experience... I don't mean this exact experience of getting a doggy enema, I mean the entire experience since meeting Junior and Brett. It's been a positive one overall, right? Or has it? I'm all fucked up half the time; humiliation after humiliation. Girls giggling now, there's too much giggling going on! The teenage boys are always giggling, and at my expense too. Maybe I'm overestimating the value of this whole deal, hmmm?
Oops, my slipknot leash is unhooked from the floor of the flatbed dolly and I'm led, taking two inch steps, over to a long stainless steel tank about three feet off the floor. The lady in the green scrubs picks me up like Molly does and sets me on a three foot wide platform. I'm up here with three dogs, including my cage-mate, the bulldog, who's on one side of me. On the other side is a blond cocker spaniel. My slipknot collar is attached to the third hook down, the cocker spaniel is hooked up on the seventh hook down from the front of the platform, even with my shins, and the bulldog gets hooked up halfway between me and the cocker spaniel. What the fuck? I feel a breeze on my ass and hear running water so it becomes pretty obvious to me what's up, although I'm thinking the dogs haven't figured it out yet. I'm definitely the smartest animal on this platform! Ha ha! See, I've still got my sense of humor. We're attached to the various hook locations depending on how long we are; our asses need to be over the trough with the running water. In my case I'll need to keep my legs apart or I'll shit on myself, and I can't wait to shit! My feet soon feel cold as the breeze created my the running water flowing down at the bottom of the trough increases. The doctor's lecture's over so he gives the, "Proceed," command and a tube hanging down from a tank overhead is inserted up the first dog's ass. The dog squirms and tries to get away but, like me, he's hooked up and hobbled front and back. His little head is trying to get back near his ass, his teeth snapping, but to no avail. Dr. Doodoo continues his lecture, "Depending on the size of the animal, we adjust the soapy water volume so as not to overwhelm the poor creatures." That's what he says, but I can observe the dog quite easily and it looks to me like it's distressed. It begins yipping and yapping until scrub lady puts a muzzle over the dog's snout. The doctor's droning on but I don't hear him now, but I hear one of the girls quite clearly say, "His penis looks like it belongs on an eight year old," and the buzzing grows, giggling gets noticeable as word spreads, and the doctor's pissed-off now, "Alright! Shut up! Stop looking at that fool and pay attention to me!" He went on and on, but the girls, with mirth on their faces, kept looking and discretely pointing out things about my naked body. I couldn't look anymore, and I tried to close my ears. That goddamned teeth ring made my dick retreat inside my body and even without the ring it's afraid to come out. What am I gonna do though, yell, "My dick's really three and three-quarter inches long!" Ha! That would be just as bad, hell... it'd be worse. This sucks!!
About ten minutes after inserting the end dog with the enema solution I smell a bitter shit smell as the dog defecates into the trough. It's haunches down low over the trough, it's muzzled head up, straining out fecal matter. It's a ghastly sound and odor, and this dog is the smallest of us four. The tube goes up the dog's ass again, with the explanation, "This is a clear water solution to rinse out Pepper's bowels. We'll do it twice!" It takes almost twenty minutes to eliminate Pepper's constipation problem, so I'm going to be here awhile... fuck! It was suppose to be ten minutes. The constipated dogs, and me too, are squeezing out gas and the smell in the room is becoming gross! I see the students changing their interest from me to the odor and they're covering their noses and showing expressions of disgust on their faces. Next is the big bulldog: same hose used on the little dog is inserted quite a ways up the bulldogs ass and she does not approve. Howling and barking, both front paws scrabbling at the ledge we're hooked- up to. The lady in scrubs is here attaching a larger muzzle to the bulldog, but she keeps trying to move away as her doggie bowels fill with soapy enema fluid. I'm like, "Stupid dogs! They don't know it's for their own good." The doctor's onto another lecture as I hear the door open and Mikey come in. He's spreading his hands, looking at me, like, "What the fuck's taking so long?" I shake my head the little bit I can, and mouth, "Twenty minutes each..." He reads my lips, looks pissed off, then sees the students on the other side of the enema table and drifts over to see what's up. I know he'll stay because he likes to see me humiliated and this humiliation is way up there! The stupid bulldog never stops making that crying sound dogs can make, it's head never stops straining against the restraints and frankly it's getting to be a pain in the ass... no pun intended. I'm looking at it out of the corner of my eye and see a glob of dog drool flop out of the muzzle. On man, this really does suck! Then they pull the tube out of the bulldog's ass and the smell of it's shit swarms around my head. Plops of shit, sounding like stones when they hit the running water are followed by a gush of enema water and keening sounds from the bulldog. What a wimp! The little dog didn't put up this much fuss. Finally the draining is over and the dog calms down, but when the clear water treatment is begun the dog goes into complaining mode again.
I'm so impatient by now and I look back, as best I can, and realize there's only one tube coming from the each of the two tanks above; one for enema solution, and one for clear water rinse. They're gonna stick those hoses up my ass, the same hoses they've been sticking up dogs asses for who knows how long. Goddammit! Why'd I have to think of that now? The first dog is back in it's cage, which is where the bulldog will be once she calms down. Then, there it is, without warning the hose is pushed inside me and I start bucking; almost an involuntary reaction. Not wanting to be as stupid as the dogs, I make myself be still, but that stupid woman is sliding the hose way up my rectum and it feels like it's going into my bowels pushing into hard matter up there. This is fucking disgusting and inhuman, and I yell out, "Stop, that's too far!" the entire student body, and my little brother, breaks out laughing like that's the funniest thing they've ever heard. I start to say something else when I feel the muzzle from the now-calm bulldog being strapped over the lower part of my face, covering my jaw from just under my nose and around to just under my ears, buckled in the back. There's a stiff narrow part that goes into my mouth holding my tongue down... the same stiff narrow part that held the bulldog's tongue down. Gross! And the dog drool and smell inside this muzzle is more than a person should need to experience. I gag, throw-up in my mouth again, then I'm forced to swallow it. Another concern emerges, overriding the disgusting dog-drool-muzzle, my belly is distending hideously as the liquid continues flowing into my bowels; the cramping is awful now. I desperately try to break free of my restraints, but have no more luck with than the previous two constipated animals had. The scrub lady sees me struggling and comes over to tighten all the bungee cords, so now my muzzle is tight against the deck and my face is squashed into the inside of that drool filled muzzle. Nothing is as bad as this, the drool squishes against my cheeks and squeezes into my mouth past the tongue retractor. Gagging is a constant condition and the pain in my gut is growing as the enema unmercifully continues flowing into me. In the background the doctor's explaining, "Due to the college students size, it'll require much more of the enema solution; check the weight and size charts I passed out to you earlier. Of course this is a canine chart, so who knows with this nutcase... and he laughs, which allows everyone else to let looses with giggles and laughter, and do they ever. The scrub nurse is behind me now getting into the act by sliding the tube out of my hole about ten inches, as the crowds going, "Ohhhhhh!" and then back in ten inches with the group going, "Ahhhhhh!"; then there's clapping and general chatter and more giggling. I'm thinking, "Can't this asshole doctor control his freakin' class?!" The scrub nurse does the attention grabbing tease of pulling out the tube and then pushing it back to even a more extreme measure this time, and now there has to be at least twenty inches of enema tube up my ass. And again, I just reminded myself that this is a dog's enema tube, one that's just been pulled from the bulldog's ass. Oh god, with all the pain and discomfort I blush at the thought, and then it gets worse. My bowels are overflowing and the enema water's filling my bladder.
There's no way I'm not going to pee right here, and right now. Less than a minute later, no matter how hard I tried to close off my bladder, I can't hold it back and I hear the splash of my strong piss stream against the steel deck that's under my all-fours position; I hear it almost before I feel it streaming from my short dick. The spray flies against my thighs as a puddle forms under me. I heard the first splash of urine and so did everyone else. "Look! He's pissing himself right on the table!" Uproarious laughter follows that announcement; I hear my little brother's high pitched laughter above the rest. The doctor too, he has a booming laugh that matches his voice, and the scrub nurse is back to teasing that the tube is being withdrawn; she pulls the tube almost all the way out and then slowly inserts it further back in than ever before and I'm trying to hop up off the table, but without much success. The students are in a pep rally mode now as they clap and cheer. So much piss is streaming from my dick that it's swirling around my front paws now, er... I mean, my hands, and it's leaked back to my knees, then runs along my legs that are hanging over the shit trough. No, nothing's ever been this degrading and humiliating. I know I keep saying that with each new indignation, but this has gotta be the worst!
The crowd quiets down as my pee stream runs out, but the pool of pee is large enough now that it's circling around my muzzle, and the smell of urine competes with the smell of dog's and dog drool. The fucking scrub lady tightened my muzzle down against the deck, and now my own pee is seeping inside my muzzle, so once again I'm struggling against my restraints, but they've got me secured tightly, and in a way so that even a much stronger dog than me wouldn't be able to break free. Then, finally, relief... the tube is pulled all the way out for real, and embarrassingly I do exactly what the first two dog did; my haunches, which is to say my hips and ass, strain down as low as possible over the trough as I'm straining every muscle in my body expelling that vial enema liquid, and along with it comes ten day worth of shit; ten days worth of waste, which isn't as much as one might expect because of the strict diet they have me on. Not as much fecal matter, but enough that the relief of getting it out makes me want to howl with pleasure. They fill me with clear water and I pee the decks again, but by now I'm so beat, I couldn't care less. The scrub lady takes out the hose a second time and clear water's flowing out of my insides now. She comes around in front of me using another hose to spray me with water rinsing my pee off of me, and the deck around me. I calm down quickly, quicker than the dumb dogs, and this gets me unhooked. True relief when the muzzle is taken from my jaw, and that disgusting sliver that held my tongue in place slides off. A string of dog drool and my saliva, mixed together, strings from my mouth to the muzzle, but breaks free to slip down across my chin and I almost lose my lunch again. I'm weak when they put me back in a cage; this time my own private cage. I want to tell them my owner, er... I mean, my brother is here to fetch me, but thought better of it. The less interaction between me and these enema people, the better.
Two minutes later Mikey comes around through the swinging doors, a huge smile on his face, shaking his head and chuckling, he goes, "I've never laughed so hard... that was awesome! The look on your face when Meg put the muzzle on you was priceless! Oh my god, that was hilarious!" I guess Meg is the scrub nurse; leave it to Mikey to find that out. I'm muzzle free now, but not saying anything. It's on my mind to let bygones be bygones as far as that humiliating enema experience goes, and I'm willing to do this 'cause I'm feeling so much better. Even so, I don't like Mikey basically mocking me as he gets laughs and enjoyment from my misery, so I pout, which gets me two whacks across my bare ass with the leather leash. "Ow, ow! Oh, I'm sorry, Mikey...." He chuckles, going, "No pouting, that's my rule!" then he laughs some more as I get dressed. "Here, put your collar on," he says, and I force myself to smile as I take it from his hand. He's trying not to laugh again, then says, "Oh, come on... that was funny out there, loosen up!" so I force out a chuckle, but he says, "That's a phony laugh if I've ever heard one," as he attaches my leash. I'm thinking maybe I should bring attention to his recently shorn head and we'll see how funny and loosened-up Mikey will be about that, but I come to my senses before I say something stupid, and we get back to the gym without a major incident. Fact is, I do feel a hundred times better after the enema. Still, I'm going to blank the whole episode from my memory banks and forget it ever happened. I mean, what's the chances I'll ever see any of those dorks again?! It's forgotten!
For the next hour I'm doing dock work, thrilled to be without my chastity device, when Mikey taps me on the shoulder, and says, "Follow me." I follow him to the gym's locker room where he orders me, "Paws up!" There's something up with him, but I know I'm not allowed to ask questions. Even though I usually tie my balls down for play time, Mikey does it this afternoon. It's an hour before we normally start this so I guess I'm done work for the day. Mikey's head is down as he winds the strands of string down my long scrotum as tight as he's ever done it and I'm soon squirming in pain. In a flat voice, he says, "Stop squirming, I know this is tight but Brett says Junior will be judged on how well he's training you and the fat boy. Even though me and Brett mostly trained you, it's Brett's responsibility, so there's pressure on all of us." I'm staring at his head knowing it's killing him to have his hair cut this short. Then he surprises me by telling me, "Ya know, Brett's making me participate in some of this evening's affair as if I'm part trainee like you and Bart what's-his-name, Junior's fat boy toy. It's humiliating to be an assistant trainer and also be treated like a trainee. He's pouting, and I feel bad for him, but I dare not speak out of turn. He goes, "Anyway, you'll be in competition with Junior's dawg, both of you will be evaluated, and there could be caning if either of you fucks up too much. That's as much as I know, except Brett told me to get you ready." My nuts are tied down so low there's a possibility they'll pop through the thinly stretch scrotum skin, and they ache! The string rings are very neat though, Mikey had taken twice as long to do it as usual so I guess neatness counts. He's turning the Kali's teeth ring around in his fingers getting the proper side against my groin, then pulls my dick out from inside me, about two inches, then gets the ring over the head of my dick, sand says, "You hold your dick up so I can slide the ring down tight against your belly." I grab my dick, realizing it's been a while since my last climax, and wondered if I'd ever have another one. That's stupid, I know, but still, I'm not in control of anything so it's up to Mikey, Brett, or Junior as far as when I get to have an orgasm again.
Brett's got my scrotum through it's ring and the lock on so he straightens-up, saying, "There, it's on good, let's test it. Get up!" I scramble to my feet, wondering how Mikey plans to test the chastity ring. He says, "I know you've developed a crush on me, it's obvious. Brett's mentioned how the trainees often fall for their trainers." I act concerned, get a concerned expression on my face, but Mikey using his hands, palms down, does the, "Don't worry, calm down, everything's alright" movement, saying, "It's no problem, I'm like that with Ben. But lets see if you get a boner from this," and he pulls my head down and buries his tongue in my mouth, I moan and lean into my brother. This is awesome, and makes everything okay! Mikey licks my tongue and follows the make-our pattern I saw Ben do with Mikey. My balls are churning now and as he grabs handfuls of my buttock, squeezing and letting go, my dick starts firming up. Mikey takes a hand from my ass and pushes a finger in my mouth, mumbling, "Suck on this, Brian!" I'm getting hot and my dick's beginning to swell, and when he takes his saliva coated finger and pushes it an inch up my ass it feels so sensual, so sexy, and with my baby brother too. Then, the teeth bite into the shaft of my cock, and I'm like, "Owww! Ow ow ow!" as my dick shrinks and mostly retreats back inside my groin. I'm breathing hard, groaning with the remembered pain... needles in my penis is not what I'm looking for! Mikey pulls away, saying, "Guess I'm right on both scores, I put the teeth ring on properly, that's obvious... and you do have a big crush on me." I'm of mixed emotions at the moment: first part is, I love the make- out with my brother, and the hard on that it caused, but second, is the torture on my cock from the chastity device worth the first part? Mikey's moving on, "Brett says to check that there's no stubble areas on your body, but you just were shaved and Naired a couple of days ago, so there ain't gonna be any stubble. Get in the paws up position and I'll tie your feet and hands up on your legs and arms." My knee joints are very subtle now and the heels of my feet easily lay flat against my buttocks as Mikey turns a leg into a paw. Both feet tied so the back of the calves are flush against the back of my thighs, my feet uselessly pointing out from my buttocks. My wrists tied to my biceps making my hand useless to me, and on all fours I need to travel on elbows and the front of my knees. It took a while to master that but now I travel this way without thinking too much about it. Hard skin has formed on my elbows and knees, but it's still painful as hell to do wind sprints, but I can do it.
My pacifier gag is inserted in my mouth and secured at the back of my head.
Mikey inflated the nipple until it's pressing my tongue against my bottom jaw, it fills the entire cavity of my mouth, puffing out my cheeks, and with two last squeezes on the inflation button, the nipple presses on my gag reflex button and Mikey leaves it there. Sweat breaks out on my forehead but I control the gagging because I'm pretty sure Mikey isn't going to take a chance on getting scolded just because I'm gagging. Mucus rolls from my nose and tears from my eyes, both of which Mikey ignores as he screws in my dildo tail, screws it in further than ever before; until it feels like my anus will rip. It's taken my mind off the gagging though and soon I have everything under control. Brett hustles in, saying, "Ya ready, Mikey? Strip down, here's your collar." Then he inspects me, mumbling, "Good job!" to Mikey; I never get complimented, but I'm staring at Brett, eating him with my eyes. I don't know who I think is cuter, Mikey or Brett. Then I realize what Brett said to Mikey, "Strip down, here's your collar," what's up with that. Well, Mikey did say he needs to be part trainee for this program, so I guess this is part of it. Mikey's taking off his shorts, asking Brett, "Is this why you made me get the rookie haircut, Brett?" Brett's like, "Yeah, but mostly Junior kinda insisted, ya know? Sorry 'bout that, kid... but you wanted the job." That's not exactly the way it happened, but needless to say, I'm not correcting Brett. Mikey didn't either. Brett's like, "Atten- tion!" and Mikey, naked, straightens up as good as I can do it.
Brett begins the body search, feeling every inch for imperfection. "Great that you shaved your pubes, Mikey, or I'd a hadda do it for ya." Then he felt all over Mikey's head, pulled his head over and whispered something to him. Those two are soooo gay, but neither will admit it even to himself. Finally Brett holds Mikey's hand, one at a time, to clip the nails like Molly does mine, down to the quick. "No nails allowed," Brett mutters, matter-of-factly. He does his toes next, fondling Mikey's feet and at one points licking each toe after the nail was clipped down to the quick. It reminds me of Ben's apparent foot fetish, I'll bet he's gonna be jealous Brett gets to cut Mikey's toenails this time, and he didn't. That done, Brett goes, "Turn around and spread 'em." Mikey does as he's told, Brett adds, "Bend forward, spread 'em more." Then, to me, "Get some wet paper towels and clean your brother's asshole, then get the razor from my locker and shave those few hairs around his anus." I say, "Yes, sir!" and hurry as best I can in my bowlegged walk which slows me down, and my ass sticking way out there, looking ridiculous. Back with the wet paper towels, I have fun cleaning the dried shit and dingle-berries from the hairs around Mikey's hole. I take a chance and push my finger in him, he makes a hissing sound and his shoulders shake, but he doesn't complain. Brett's fucked my brother so I know Mikey's familiar with the feel of something up there... it's an awesome feeling and I'd like to provide the feeling for Mikey by having my cock up there, but that's probably not gonna happen anytime soon.
Here comes Junior with a piece of paper, he says, "Paws up," and I get right down. "You too, Mikey, and no talking at all, okay? You're only in a small part of the presentation, everyone knows you're an assistant trainer and not a trainee, but you gotta show Brett and me respect too, so we do a few things with you that separates you from us. Brett sort of leans against Junior, it's obvious who's the main man. Mikey gingerly gets down next to me and mimics what I'm doing. Junior tells Brett, "Mikey will join Bart and Brian in the paws up position for review by the guests, then all three will be at attention for close-up inspection by the three leaders of their group. The other members can then touch or feel our three boy toy, oops, sorry, Mikey! I meant two boy-toys and one assistant trainer. The normal members are big on feeling the trainees up, fingering them, and generally making a pain in the ass of themselves, but it's become accepted, so we'll get through it. Next Bart and Brian have an exercise competition and then a race around the gym; loser gets paddled. Then it's the two dawgs on the wrestling mat to determine the alpha dog." Brett's like, "Does the loser get paddled?" and Junior laughs, "No, the loser gets fucked. That's the highlight of the presentation and frankly I don't see Brian having a chance against my fatty boy." "Plus," Brett adds, "Brian's wearing a chastity devise too, so that don't seem fair." Junior sarcastically says, "No shit, bro... but I don't make the rules. We'll see if my fat boy dominates your pussy boy, and then see if he fucks him good enough so Brian cums anyway, and chastity device be damned. I'll get kudos if I can make that happen!" Bretts like, "You're so competitive, Junior... hope I can be like you someday."
The brothers do a quick hug, then Junior says, "This little presentation for these other groups in the bleachers out there is very informal on the surface, no pomp and circumstance, but everyone takes it seriously so no goofing around. Brett, you leash up the O"Rielly boys and bring them over, those two on all fours, to the bleachers, and then have them get at attention; Mikey on his feet, and the dawg on his knees, up straight and steady. Have the paddle in your back pocket, anything that disturbs you, like poor posture, fire off a couple of hard paddles on their asses or the back of their legs as you shout out the area that needs correcting." Brett's very attentive, then Junior grins a little, and says to Brett, "Okay, I'm a little nervous, bro... I just told you stuff you already know." He punches him affectionately in the arm, and says, "Just do everything like last time." They do another hug, this time holding each other for a few seconds; I guess this is a big deal to them. Junior lets go of his brother, and goes, "When you hear the whistle bring these two losers out, I'll be bring the other pant load out the other door and we'll meet you at the center bleacher section." Brett's like, "Gotchya', Junior. Good luck!" When Junior's out the door, Mikey's real concerned about something, he says, "I can't tie up my arms and legs like Brian's, that's for dawgs and I'm an assistant trainer, and you said..." "SLAP!! SLAP!!" Brett slaps Mikey's face, followed by a back-hander, "Shut the fuck up, or you'll wind-up as a dawg trainee!" Mikey's startled, but stands stiffly at attention again," Brett's calming down, he pinches Mikeys nose, then flips his forefinger up the front of it, and says, "Nobody said anything about tying your paws 'cause you don't have paws, you have arms and legs and that's what you'll use on all fours... you'll walk on your hands and knees like a baby, okay?" Mikey's grinning stupidly, then mumbles, "Yes, thank you, sir. Thanks Brett, I'm sorry I doubted you." The face slaps are forgotten and I can hear the affection and admiration for Brett in Mikey's voice. Brett says, "No problem," and gets us fitted with the proper collars and leashes, then Mikey and me are on all fours waiting for the whistle.
I'm kinda nervous myself...
to be continued....
Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
enema fat boy encounter and Ben again... check notes in dictionary.