THE DOG PACK, part 2
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
After I had finished my lunch I turned my recorder back on. Six was still licking his lips,. As if he had really enjoyed the few scraps I had given him, and I returned to my questioning.
Q: You were telling me about the prey, and how they were surprised to see all the huntsmen, horses, and you... you dogs.
6: Yes, well, I suppose it is a bit of a shock, even for those who have some idea bout what they're in for.
For the others, the blokes who've been captured, it must be like some bizarre fantasy.
Q: You say some of the prey have an idea...
6: Well, yes. Look, as far as I can understand it from the odd things they've said, there are basically two types of bloke that the Owner gets here as prey in the hunt. He has a kind of advertisement running in some of the places on the Internet where guys who like to think of themselves as tough hang out - newsgroups for pent athletes, extreme sports groups, that sort of thing. He basically challenges men who like to think of themselves as real men to come and prove it. There are tests, of course, as a lot of those men are just in there bullshitting, posting pictures of other guys when they themselves are nine-stone weaklings. So someone goes and visits them, then if they look fit, they might be asked to prove it by doing a long hike across mountains in a limited time, or something like that. If they can do that, they might get a chance to come here and really show their stuff. Mind you, it's not always successful - we had a boxer here once, a welterweight champion or something, who took up the Owner's challenge. He had a lovely body - all muscle, and really fit and tough. But he couldn't do the running - got totally exhausted after a few miles.
6: I think al that selection takes a lot of effort, though, and so recently we've had more of the other type of prey - the ones who're just picked up and brought here. The Owner's agents just go to somewhere where there are marines and those kind of blokes - San Diego in the US, Hereford in the UK... They wait until there's a big passing out parade for a batch of new recruits who have been through training, then when all the blokes are pissed out of their minds after celebrating, it's easy to "lift" one off the streets and bring him here. It saves all the selection, as the blokes have all been selected by the army already, and put through just the sort of endurance training you need to be a worthwhile prey.
Q: It sounds as if you have an unfair advantage over the prey... Brought half way around the world....
6: Oh no! The Owner wants to provide good sport for his guests, so the prey is always brought here two or three days before a hunt. They're properly fed and rested, and they can exercise if they want to. That's why they're allowed to keep their boots, or trainers, or whatever/
Q: Please explain....
6: Well, the prey is in its cage, and is wheeled out. Then the Trainer and a couple of the guards have to strip it so that it's naked, ready for the hunt. That's part of the thrill for the Owner's guests - hunting a naked bloke, utterly defenceless and vulnerable, with only his own body to rely on. And they like to see the prey stripped in front of them, as it gives them some idea of what it was like in "real life" - a marine, or a guy who's into sport, or whatever. But once he's totally nude he's allowed to put his boots back on, or his trainers, or whatever he usually wears for exercise - most blokes don't run in bare feet, after all, and it would be really hard on them as the ground here is stony, and the sand can get very hot. They wouldn't give their best if their feet were all cut and bleeding after only a half mile or so. It's not a problem for us dogs, of course, as we're used to it.
(At this point Six lifted up one of his feet and showed me the underside - he had a thick callous of hard, dry skin all over it: evidently this came from the constant practice and exercise he had told me about, all over the Owner's station. The act of raising his foot and leg gave me a further opportunity to admire his athletic grace, and his arse was tantalisingly visible between his splayed legs ).
6: Still, it's a bit comical, too - a big strong marine, stripped out of his kit and standing there nude in front of all those people dressed up to the nines on horseback - they often try to cover themselves with their hands. And then to have their boots on - it looks really funny to see their naked legs just going down into the big black leather boots.
6: Anyway, the prey is then collared - nothing like ours, of course - just a simple locator, so that if they do get across the fence and we can't follow them, the Owner's helicopter can find them and bring them back. Then the Trainer tells them the rules - quite a lot of them argue and shout at that point, but it doesn't do them any good - and then they're off. They're given twenty minutes start on us, and then it gets really tense. We're eager to get after them, of course, and the huntsmen are all keen, too. But the Owner is really strict, always plays by the rules, and there's a big clock on the lawn, counting down the minutes. As the hand gets down to zero, we all race off, in a pack, as we're trying to follow the prey's trail in the sand, and soon, if they're clever, we all have to split up after a few minutes.... But it's really exciting!
Q: You say there are rules....
6: Well, the prey has to have some incentive to run, doesn't he? It's simple, really - he gets a twenty minute start. We then chase him, and when we capture him, we fuck him. If he manages to evade us for three hours, he doesn't get fucked - they usually have to use the locator to find him after that time, as we're pretty skilled at locating the prey out here and it's really rare for one to win - actually, there's only been one in my time here.
Q: You fuck the prey...
6: Well, we need an incentive to run our hardest, don't we? The way it works is that the first dog to touch him gets to fuck him first, there and then. But it's great - especially if the prey has led you on a good hard chase so you're at the edge of your ability to carry on, too.
Q: And these men submit...
6: Oh no, of course not! That's part of the fun - taking a virgin arse that's never been fucked before, with the prey struggling and screaming and cursing you.... If it's one of the volunteers, part of the selection is to make sure it's only straight guys who are chosen, and of course the marines will never admit they like taking a dick, even if they do with their buddies in the barracks. Mind you, I'm not so sure it's good to be the first one to get to the prey - much better to be second.
Q: Why?
6: Well, the first one to get him has to subdue him, and even though they're exhausted, at the end of their strength, they can usually find some hidden reserve to put up a bit of a fight with. We're used to this of course, and the fighting we do in establishing the pack order helps as you know all the right moves to get a bloke pinned down and your dick up him. But the prey can be vicious sometimes - particularly the marines! They've got those heavy boots on, remember, and they can kick out and give you a nasty blow - one a few months ago almost broke my ankle, and I had to give him a real going over to knock the fight out of him before I could finally fuck him. That's how I got this, too - we had a hunt yesterday - pity you missed it - and the prey sank his teeth into my arm just as I was penetrating him. I mean, its' not fair, is it - a little love bites one thing, but trying to bite a big chunk out of a bloke, that's just not on.
6: But the real reason you want to be there second is that someone else has already done the first fuck. All these blokes are anal virgins, or are supposed to be, and have you ever tried ramming your dick up a virgin arse that's not been prepared or lubed? It really hurts, I tell you..
Q: Is that why the prey is screaming and cursing....?
6: Well, it might be. But that's not what I mean. It's your own dick that hurts, as it can be bloody painful to have to force your way in past a totally dry sphincter. Your dick's covered in sweat from the running, of course, but it's not enough, is it? Anyway, if you get here second.... The other dog's done all the stretching and lubing, hasn't he, and the prey's hole is running with the dog's spunk. So it's easy to get in there and really enjoy it: the prey's a lot less inclined to struggle so hard, too. There's another advantage as well - the first fuck is usually really quick as the tight hole makes you cum very fast as there's so much friction on your dick. So the riders haven't usually got to the scene. But by the second dog, the riders are usually there and they like to watch one guy fucking another, especially as the prey is still struggling a bit. The ladies seem to enjoy it more than the men, though - perhaps the men are imagining what it would be like to have one of us big powerful dogs push our big dicks up them! And when you're done, you quite often get a reward - the ladies will get a lump of sugar, or a chocolate, out of their hunting jackets and feed it to you to say "thank you" for entertaining them.
Q: So do all the dogs get to fuck the prey then...?
6: No! Be reasonable! We're not here to hurt the guy, are we, and no bloke could possibly take eight big dicks like ours, one after another. It's usually just the first two or three. Then the Owner calls it a day, and leads the huntsmen off back to the house for lunch.
Q: And what happens to the prey?
6: Well, he comes back with us. The Trainer has called us all together - some of the dogs can be scattered over quite a wide area, if they've mistaken the prey's tracks, and he uses the stuff in our collars and our earpieces to get us all to one spot. Then we set off back to the kennels, and the prey comes with us. We're all pretty whacked, so the Trainer lets us take it easy - we're not required to run or anything, just go at a nice brisk walk. We often have to help the prey, as they're generally much more exhausted than we are. And some of them are crying, or look really dejected - hey, it's not as if taking a dick is a really big thing, is it, but some of them seem to think so! So we have to help them - put their arms around our shoulders and half carry them if they're completely done in, or maybe just get behind them and give their arses a good slapping if we think they're faking it a bit. Back at the kennels we all get cleaned up by the kennel maids, and we have to really watch the prey then - most of them aren't used to the girls cleaning them up, and they try to take advantage: one stupid cunt even tried to take one of the girls as a kind of hostage a few moths ago. I tell you, we were furious - you don't treat the kennel maids like that, and we all protect them and look after them.
6: Then they feed us... even though it's usually only mid-afternoon. We're pretty good with the prey - they're not used to feeding like we do, and providing he hasn't done anything stupid with the maids, we help him - nudge the choice bits towards him, that kind of thing. Of course, if he's been really offensive, we just shoulder him out of the way, and he goes hungry. Then we spend the rest of the afternoon in the compound, and that's when we really get to have fun. Those dogs that want to fuck the prey, and all of us just enjoy being with the other dogs in the warm sun. We're well fed, recovering from a great morning's sport, and utterly content: it's a great time for sex, and we usually indulge. It's just like before I came here - if I'd played a really tough game of rugby in the afternoon, when I got home my juices were really running and I couldn't wait to fuck my woman. It's just the same here - the excitement of the hunt, and the physical feeling of utter contentment afterwards really makes you randy.
Q: So I suppose it's the hierarchy thing again...?
6: NO, actually. Look, we all need to know our place in the pack as when you just need a quick fuck you don't want a whole lot of negotiation and messing about and trying to get someone to agree, do you? When you're ready or it, your dick is aching, and you feel like fucking, it's so much easier just to be able to take the arse of one of the blokes lower down in the order. But when you want a bit of relaxing, utterly enjoyable sex... Well, you want your favourite dog, don't you, or one you've fucked earlier in the week and had a good time with, and want to try again. And then there's the young guys to think about - they need experience.
Q: What do you mean?
6: Well, take young Five.... He's our latest addition, and he's still only a young bloke, twenty, I think he is, a real youngster. He's eighth in the pack as he hasn't yet learned to fight, and we all fuck him regularly. He's a really nice bloke, though, and doesn't resent it at all - he knows his time will come. But you've got to give him a bit of an incentive, haven't you It's all very well for him to keep taking dick, but if he never learns how great it is to give it, where's the incentive to progress? We have a bit of a tradition here - we offer the prey next to the eighth dog, so he can enjoy a good exercise for his dick. It helps the young blokes like Five to really understand what it's all about, and, of course, when I've slipped right down the pecking order, I'll still get to enjoy fresh arse occasionally.
6: It's a bit of a free for all, actually - we're all feeling great, and there's that air of sex about, and we kind of take an "anything goes" attitude. Even young Five can go and ask any other dog if he can fuck him, and quite a lot of us will agree... We've all been a young dog, after all. And Five is a pretty spectacular fucker, and if you do even just occasionally like to take dick, well, I can't think of a better dick to take. There's something about young guys, isn't there - still enthusiastic, still getting a lot of fun with their dicks... well, as I said, even those of us who are higher up in the pack will let another dog take us sometimes, so it never hurts to sniff around and ask. And even if I don't want a guy up my arse, I'll probably do a bit of mutual sucking, or even just wank him - we're all nice blokes, after all, and if you can't do a favour for a mate, you'd to be a very poor buddy, wouldn't you?
Q: Is that the only time a dog lower in the pack gets to fuck a higher one?
6: No. Sometimes, if one of the dogs below me has pissed me off, I'll start to fuck him, then call one of the even lower dogs over and tell him to take over.
That's often quite funny, because the dog who's getting fucked really hates to be fucked by a lower animal, especially if he's given that dog a hard time himself earlier in the day. They even sometimes start to argue, and I have to give them a good seeing to before we get the lower dog to finish off.
Q: I see. Anyway, what happens to the prey after that?
6: Well, they leave him in the kennels with us all night, and it's surprising how much fun some of them have - it's almost as if once they're in the dark and the warm, with all us nice bodies around them, they lose their inhibitions a bit. I've certainly had a prey really enthusiastic about sucking my dick - I honestly didn't have to force him or anything... He just felt for it as we all shuffled over each other in the pack, then the next minute was slobbering all over it and he had his hands around my bum, pulling me in to him and further down his throat. I'm not so keen on fucking them, though - it's all right in the heat of the hunt, as that's what it's all about, but I think I prefer the arses I know, of my mates. Mind you, not all of us are like that, and I think they do pretty well.
Q: And after that?
6: I don't know, really. They're taken away in the morning, and we never see them again. I guess they're returned to where they've come from. Knowing how generous our Owner is, I suppose they get a few thousand quid to compensate them for their time. It must be a bit of a problem for the marines, though - they're probably posted as absent without leave, so they must get into a bit of trouble with their officers.
Q: But surely they complain to the police....
6: Well, I dunno'. Probably not - would you go to the police and tell them you'd been hunted, naked, by a group of naked guys? Do you think they'd believe you?
More likely you'd be locked up in the loony bin. And, in any case, where would the police start to look? When I was brought here originally I had no ideas where I was. It was only because one of the other dogs told me were in Australia that I had any idea.... Well, I mean, look around you... Nothing to be seen for miles, except the bush and scrub. We could be anywhere.
Q: Now you've mentioned your coming here again, I've been meaning to ask you... Why do you think you were captured?
6: Dunno' how they found me, really. But it's obvious why the Owner wants me, isn't it?
Q: No...
6: Well, look at us, all eight. I saw you watching us yesterday. Notice how alike we all are - we're all exactly the same height, and, more importantly, we have the same leg length and body length: you can get two guys the same height, but one can have a short body and long legs, the other a long body and short legs... Well, we're all the same. And we're all within four pounds of each other in weight, and all have the same big nipples, and black air, and black eyes... Look...
(Six leaned forward, and I looked deep into his eyes which really were that astonishing jet black colour that's relatively rare. He'd also circled his tit with his hand and thrust it forward - he had dark teats set in the centre of a big, dark aureoles)
6: I fit the bill exactly for the Owner's choice of dog in this pack. I suppose that he's got agents watching out for blokes who fit the bill, and they must have seen me somewhere - working on the site, or at a match. The only way I wasn't right is with my dick, and they fixed that in the first week.
Q: But you've got a fantastic dick - what wasn't right about it?
6: Oh, come on... Look, I was a young British guy. It's no longer the fashion to circumcise guys in England, so I had a nice foreskin, didn't I? Used to like it, too - when you're wanking, it's so much better to have a nice 'skin to slide over your dick head. But the pack is all cut, always has been, apparently. I guess in the early days there were a lot of 'skinned blokes in it, and if an uncut guy joined, he had to be 'skinned to make him look the same. Well, once you've started, you've got to go on, haven't you? So I had to lose my 'skin. It didn't hurt at all - the vet just came and did it, and he's used to it, and it's only a couple of minutes under a local anaesthetic... It's a bit sore for the next week or two, though! All the blokes had a good laugh about it, and we always do: it's one of our traditions. When a young dog arrives with his 'skin intact, we always tell him he's going to be "docked" - you know how real dogs get their tails docked: we use that word
as an in-joke. Most of them never realise it until they come back from the vet's and we ask to see how the docking went!
Q: Well I suppose that leads me onto the obvious question - how do you feel about it?
6: You mean about being 'docked'? Well, it's just one of those things. I miss my 'skin, but I can see the advantages here - it's really good to be just like your mates. And it's a lot easier for the kennel maids to clean our dicks like this - if they had to 'skin us back every time they groomed us....
Q: No, I mean how do you feel about being snatched from your real life, an brought here and made to be a dog?
6: That's the first difficult question you've asked me. It's really hard to say.
Q: Try... Don't be worried, I'm not going to tell your Owner or the Trainer...
6: Oh, I'm not worried about that. The Owner and Trainer don't care what we think - we're dogs, and providing we behave, that's all that matters. No, I'm finding it hard to answer your question because the answer changed. Look, when I was first pulled out of the travelling crate and had all that stuff done to me, I hated it. It was fucking humiliating, and some of it hurt. Then I would think about home, and miss it.... But then, the more I thought, the more I realised how great it was to be here. Look, at home, I had a dead-end job working on a building site, and no prospects of anything else. I'd got this woman who'd I'd knocked up, and she and her mom and her brothers were all nagging at me to marry her, and I knew I was going to have to and I was too young to settle down as I was only twenty two and I wanted to "live". I was really hard up - my wages barely covered the bills, and when the sprog came, it would be impossible. I wouldn't even be able to afford holidays - not that they were all that great: two weeks in an egg-box in Benedorm, after being crammed into a charter flight. About the only bit of pleasure I got was from playing rugby, and that would probably have to stop, too. And even the times at the rugger club weren't all that great - sure, it as good to play matches and laugh and drink with the other blokes in the communal bath afterwards, but then they mostly went back to their nice little suburban homes and their nice little suburban wives - they were doctors, or lawyers, or IT people, all with a lot more money than me.
6: And now, well, I have a good life, don't I? I've got a great job that really stretches my body. I've got absolutely nothing to worry about, providing I behave - I'm fed, housed, looked after with the finest medical care money can buy, there's no one hammering at me to pay bills. No nagging woman (or her fucking family). A great bunch of fellow dogs who I'm really close to, Fantastic sex, and as much of it as I want, whenever I want it. A healthy life, a lot of fun, stress-free, totally... Hey, a lot of blokes would be really envious of me. And, you know, I'm closer to my fellow dogs than I've ever been to anyone in my life, or ever could be. As I said, all the guys at the club went home after matches, and they probably looked down on me and felt sorry for me as I was only a labourer. But here the blokes know you for what you are, not for how much you earn. I'm realising my full potential at last, something I would never have done before. There's no way I'd want to change it. I have his collar on because my Owner wants me to, and because it helps me do my job with the radio in it - but if he took it of tomorrow, he needn't worry about me running off and leaping over the perimeter fence: no way! I like it here.
Q: Yes, but your "woman" was going to have a child.. Surely every man wants that...?
6: Sure, every bloke wants his genes to go on to the next generation. But look what you have to put up with... It's easy if you've got money, but for me.... More grief, more worry, loss of my freedom. And, anyway, I have a pup.
Q: What?
6: One of the owner's friends is a lady of a certain age... She's got some high-powered job that keeps her flying around the world, and she doesn't have time to meet men. She told my Owner she knew her biological clock was ticking, and she needed to have a child soon, before it was too late. She could have gone off and had it by artificial insemination, I suppose, or even bought a shot of some guy's sperm over the Internet and used a turkey baster! But she believes in natural things, and didn't want any of that. Talking about it with the Owner after a hunt, she asked him if she could borrow one of us dogs to impregnate her, and of course he said yes.
6: After their talk that night we were all specially groomed the next morning - we knew something was going on, as the kennel maids cleaned us even more thoroughly than they do before a hunt, and they were laughing and giggling with each other, especially as they cleaned our dicks! Then we all lined up, and she came down the line, looking at us and trying to pick one of us. She couldn't of course - hey, we're all chosen to be utterly alike, aren't we? So if we're all standing there, with everything on display, how can you pick one? In the end, she just got a pack of cards and shuffled them, then turned them over one by one - there were a lot of kings and queens to begin with, then the first number card was a six, so it was me!
6: It was tough, I tell you. The Trainer lectured me first, then the Owner. It was made absolutely clear to me that this was a lady, and I'd better behave! There were all sorts of threats about what would happen to me if I upset her or anything. And they reminded me that as a lady, she needed respect and that I'd better be tender, and not rough with her. I remember the Owner saying in particular that he'd been watching me fuck one of the pack the previous week and he'd really enjoyed seeing how I piled into him - well, my preferred style of fucking is, shall we say, to go in deep, and go in hard, and go in fast - but no way was I to do that. Then I had to wait until she was ready.... Several days. You know... women don't want to fuck all the time, not like blokes, do they?
And all this time the other dogs were laughing and joking and making fun of me, telling me that I'd forgotten how to take a woman, and that I wouldn't be able to perform, and reminding me that I needed to go up her cunt, and not her arse... I tell you, they all had a lot of fun at my expense. The hardest thing, of course, was that the Trainer insisted that I had no sex at all for three days before the big event - I wasn't even allowed to wank myself, let alone fuck any of the other dogs. Can you imagine how difficult that is, when you're used to it three or four times a day?
6: In the event, it all went well, though. I was really scared when I was taken into the house, as it felt so odd to be on carpets, and with furniture around, and so on. But she was a real lady - she made it really easy for both of us. She... No, I'm not going to tell you. She's a real lady, and her privacy deserves to be protected. All I will say is that I was completely successful - a hole in one, as you might say, and they told me that I'd sired a pup, a male.
Q: That's astonishing.. Have you ever seen him?
6: Yes, of course! She believes that a son should know his father. So whenever she comes to visit the Owner, she brings him here. But we talked about it, and she finally decided that it wasn't good for him to know that his dad's a dog. So we all play together, and I get to see him, and at some time in the future he'll know he's met his dad... Well, I expect he'll remember all eight of us, not necessarily me. I get the best of everything - I see my pup growing up, and I've got none of the hassle. And the other dogs know that I'm a proper, virile man, ever time they see my pup.
Q: All play together....?
6: Yes, all the pack. Kids love to play with dogs, you know, and we all like kids. Whenever the owner has guests with kids we all look forward to it - they come down and visit us in our enclosure, and they're much better than adults at bringing us little treats to eat - they love us taking it out of their hands with our tongues. And the Owner lets them play with us - you know the relay game I told you about, well, we do that with them - they throw the ball initially, then we run and retrieve it in our mouths, and so on. It's a lot of fun. And for the older kids, well, their parents all feel much safer when they want to swim in the creek - all kids love that compared to the pool as it's so much more exciting - as we dogs all stand guard at the edge of the deep water, and the strongest swimmer sits on a big rock, ready to leap in if there's any kid who seems to be floundering. It's a nice change for us - beats working, I'll tell you!
Q: But don't they see you're men, naked men...?
6: In a way, yes. But then, we've all got collars on, we're all the same, and don't look at all like their parents. It's easy for them to see us as something different. Mind you, by about twelve or thirteen, then seem to get embarrassed and self-conscious, so when they come to stay they stop visiting the kennels.
Q: Look, I don't like to worry you, but what's going to happen to you when you're old... Well, didn't you say you only had about five more years here..?
6: Yes, I suppose so. This is a young bloke's game - funny, it's a bit like rugby - I'd have left the club in my mid-thirties, probably, too.
Q: So what happens then?
6: Well, the Owner tries to find us good homes. It's not all that easy, as some of the blokes find it really hard to adjust to not living in a pack. When you're used to the companionship, the sex, the fun, the open air life... It's hard to go back to some boring old regular existence. I know about two dogs personally....
Q: Tell me, please..
6: I met my predecessor, "old six", I'll call him. His owner brought him back recently when he was here for a hunt. My owner persuaded old six's owner to take old six as he was a bit past it, and it seems to be working out well. His new owner likes walking, and does a bit of rough shooting, and so on, and he likes taking old six with him on all of this - it's really companionable to walk with a dog, isn't it? And if his owner shoots a pheasant out of the sky, old six's training here on the game hunts comes in - he rushes off and retrieves the body, and brings it back to his owner. Old six, even though he's past it for hunting here in the pack, is still in superb physical shape by normal standards, of course - so he's easily able to keep up with his owner, and in fact does a lot more: the owner walks along normally, and old six races ahead, then comes back, then races ahead again. For every mile his owner does, old six must do four. His real job is to be a guard dog, though - no burglar is going to dare risk breaking into his owner's house whist he's out at work while old six is guarding it. They live in the suburbs, and there was a lot of petty crime, teenage vandalism, and so on, and old six told us that everyone in the area is pleased now that's all gone away. The first few weeks he was there he told some lads who were skateboarding and making a nuisance of themselves to fuck off, and when they were disrespectful to him, he chased them - well, he can still run - and caught them, and gave them a good seeing to. Mind you, he says that although it's an easy life, he still misses us, especially the sex, as there are no other guys in the area whose body he fancies. So he looks forward to his visits here with his new owner, and we're all really nice to him. He can't wait to strip off his shorts and T - his owner insists he wears clothes - and get in here with us. And his owner lets him spend the nights in the sleeping compartment with us, too.
5: Old seven's g to a cushy number, as well. The Owner's aunt had a lot of trouble with the Abbos - she lives on the edge of the bush, and the were always coming begging at her door, or stealing her vegetables, or just standing around and looking at her house. I told you seven is a pretty fearsome bloke on the surface - it's funny, even though we're all so much alike there are some small differences in facial expression and so on that make some of us look harder than the others - and so the Owner gave old seven to his aunt as a watch dog. Worked like a dream - no more Abbo trouble: they took one look at old seen, and didn't come near again. It's probably because he's allowed to go naked still, and the Abbos only wear those tiny penis sheath things: Once they saw old seven's dick, I expect they were ashamed of themselves. Old seven doesn't come back here often, as he needs to guard the house when the Owner's aunt is visiting, but one of us has been there and when he came back he told us that old seven likes the life but that he's spoiled rotten by the Aunt - she keeps giving him chocolate and stuff, and he has to take it and hide it as he doesn't want to upset her, and yet he doesn't want to get fat. The only real complaint he's got is about sex, of course, and grooming - he's had to get used to shaving himself and it's tricky to do your own arse, isn't it? Oh, and that the aunt likes to dress him up - she makes him wear a blue ribbon knotted around his dick and his balls, like a cock ring, except that there's a big bow on the top.
Q: So you think you might get a job with an owner like that?
6: Yes, I'm in with a good chance. I'm good with kids, as I told you, and there are a lot of parents who'd like a good dog around the house, especially when the kids are growing up. Kids ought to have a dog around the place, and the real ones are a real lot of trouble, as they are always shedding hair, making smells, and so on. Then there are all these perverts around, aren't there, and having young kids must be a worry to parents, especially those who work long hours. Well, a good reliable guard dog would solve a lot of that, wouldn't it? And I think my Owner knows I'm good with kids, so he'll be on the lookout for a suitable place for me. Well, at least he told the Trainer that I was to have charge of that pup that he bought....
At that moment, the servant came in with afternoon tea, and my host appeared shortly afterwards. Six got to his feet as soon as the Owner appeared, as you'd expect, but he was told to sit, and sank back onto the floor. As we chatted over tea, my host apologised for leaving me alone so much but he had a big deal at a crucial stage, and was stuck on the video conference system almost continuously. Still, as he pointed out, it did enable him to spend most of his time here at his station, and not in the city. It was touching to see how, as we talked, he occasionally reached to and scratched Six's head , and how much pleasure Six obviously took in this mark of his Owner's affection. The Owner even fed him little bits of the delicious Victoria sponge that was served with the tea, and I couldn't help but notice that Six spent a lot longer licking the crumbs from his Owner's fingers than he had from mine after lunch.
My host was not averse to my continuing to interrogate Six, and when he was summoned back to another video conference call, I looked at Six, to continue. But his eyes were on the Victoria sponge, and he was almost drooling. His owner had only given him two or three very tiny morsels, so I cut a slice, put it on a plate, and put it in front of Six. He looked at it longingly, but he'd said he was well trained, and so he didn't ask for it. Even when I put the plate on the floor in front of him he didn't attack it... Instead, he asked, quite humbly, if I would breaks it into tiny pieces as these were easier to eat without hands. I did so, and was rewarded with the intensely erotic sight of his muscular back and buttocks heaving backwards and forwards as he scoffed the cake greedily. He told me afterwards that all their food tended to be savoury, meat based, and that something sweet was a complete treat - especially as he was no longer top dog, and could not rely on getting chocolate from guests.
End Of Part 2