Date: Thu, 3 Apr 2008 14:08:27 -0600 From: charles Turner Subject: Home Again: Going Home Warning! Warning! What follows is a story of dog on male sex, dominance,Homo-sexuality, watersports and various other alternative sexual practices. If it is illegal in your area to read about this close the page and write your congressperson. If you are disturbed by this type of activities I hope you find something more to your tastes elsewhere. This is the continuing tale of Dan, Rafa, Cho, Sean and Ivan, various other dogs and people and is within a few months of the present time; from this point onward I hope this will be the story of Chase and TP. As I've stated before, I will allow those that wish to believe this is fiction to do so but I will attempt to tell the story the best I can remember it happening. Going To Work 15 I don't know whether embarrassment or the thought that I needed to return to the shop crossed my mind first. It didn't much matter, I was certain I would return to give Bryan everything he had in mind. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he intended to include Rat in whatever we had planned, pulling away I certainly hoped I hadn't read his intentions incorrectly. The remainder of the afternoon TP and I made sure we had all our preparations for Christmas completed and ourselves ready for the evening's party. Even though the invitation had stated the party was to be semi-formal TP was going much as he had on Halloween, just a tad more covering now that he had his own sheath. I thought we were finished with the decorating and ready to shower when Sean slapped the tree with his tail and shattered half a dozen balls, one of the hazards of having big dogs roaming through the house. A small price to pay for all they will do to you. I expected the wolfhounds to be jealous smelling Rat on TP, but they seemed more interested in getting to the new smell. The two dogs followed TP around as he was cleaning up glass trying to get their noses and tongues past the tail plug he was wearing. If I hadn't banished them to the dog run I think Ivan would have figured out how to pull the plug. I was amused watching him grab it be-tween his teeth and try to shake it, when he was real frustrated he was able to not just move TP's ass but lift his bottom half off the floor and make my boy undulate from feet to head. Their eagerness to get at the dog cum in his ass didn't stop when they were outside, I finally had to shut them inside the shelter to get peace. Earlier, when TP had placed the tree topper on our tree I decided I wanted to take him to bed and instead of being his master, make love. Waiting for the shower to heat up and watching TP struggling to remove the tail plug my softer side once more disappeared and when TP sat on the commode I stepped in front of him and began showering him with all the piss I'd built up since he'd had his breakfast juice. When I'd become schizophrenic I'm not certain; there is no doubt I have more than one personality when I'm dealing with TP, one that wants to hold him tight and protect him from any harm and one that enjoys watching him be demeaned and whipped and a third that is excited watching him submit to any dog I select. I've never quite understood it, but it seems that TP might actually have three separate personalities also, three submissive personalities that match my demanding and absolutist ones. As TP licked up the piss that had landed on the tile floor the desire to give him the shit he desires grew in my gut. TP's desire is beginning to overrule my better sense. Everytime we approach the point where I start rehearsing the order I will give the dog/boy that will finally allow him to fill his mouth with the waste he desperately craves, my body reacts negatively. At first it was cramps that stopped me from even passing gas. After about a month my sphincter tightened up when thinking about TP's mouth accepting my waste greedily. That afternoon I felt a bit of a flutter in my chest and leaning back on the bed fell to sleep feeling that I had physically changed. It was nearly time for the party when TP woke me, not with his tongue up my ass like he is supposed to, but with his head bouncing up and down on my dick. I'm not one to refuse a blowjob, not any of the personalities I told you about; but sleeping on my back and waking up without a properly placed tongue from either the hounds or TP leaves me in a foul mood. That evening the mood was so bad that we didn't go to the party, one that I'd been looking forward to since the day I heard Dr. Dick threw his Christmas party in the kennel with many specially invited studs. TP spent the evening on the punishment wheel and I was back and forth from the back yard with the bull whip his father had given me to sitting in front of the fireplace wondering why I felt weak and tired. Christmas morning I woke to both dogs and TP working their tongues on my balls up to my ass. I imagine some people would find it exciting but that morning it was more than I wanted. I reached behind me to push one of the dogs away, instead he pushed back and snapped at TP, catching his earlobe. I don't think Sean intended to hurt TP, but he did remove the lobe with that one snap. The way TP screamed I thought one of the dogs had bit his balls. Once I saw what had happened I tried to get the ear piece from Sean but he had already swallowed the flesh. There was nothing to do but get his ear sewed up. Waiting in the hospital emergency room I rationalized the jealousy that existed between the two dogs and TP as natural. In the back of my mind I knew better. Ivan and Sean weren't jealous of TP, they had accepted him as their bitch and when I disturbed the natural order Sean had decided he needed to show his dom-ination of the trio. Although he and Ivan would mount each other there was no doubt that Sean was number one and TP number three. I wasn't permitted to go into the cubicle with TP so while I waited I thought about what I had planned for my slave for the rest of the week. Just reviewing the itinerary of each day my dick stretched down the left pants' leg. I wasn't paying attention to the other people in the room, I had my eyes closed when I adjusted my dick. It wasn't more than two minutes later that I felt something pushing against my leg. I looked down and there stood a little boy, maybe five years old rubbing on my erection. "My Daddy lets me suck on his. Would you like that?" He seemed like he really wanted to get his mouth on me, but I had started shrinking the moment I knew there was a child playing with me. What could I say to the boy, that he shouldn't be doing what he wanted? That his father was wrong to let him suck him? That he shouldn't talk like that to strangers? The horror of the years my own father made me suck his dick flooded through my mind and all I wanted to do was protect the boy. Before I had the opportunity to say a word we were approached by an older boy, probably in his early teens, "Billy, leave the man alone, he doesn't want you slobbering all over him. You're too young to be playing with strangers." The teen couldn't have been ten feet away when he turned his head, winked and licked his lips. If he had been old enough, the regal features and butt that had begun to bubble out would have drawn me from my seat. By the time we returned to the house we had just enough time to get showered and dressed for the dinner gathering at home of the oldest man that regularly attended Albert's parties. Dr. Harvey, I had never been told his first name, is probably in his late eighties. Shortly after WWII he and his brother moved to the city, the doctor had been recruited as a pediatrician for the hospital and his brother had found a position with the school teaching German while estab-lishing his training school for German Shepards. The Harveys had grown up on a ranch where they seldom had the opportunity to see any strangers other than the workers that came and went. I'd heard Dr. Harvey tell the story so many times I wondered if he was senile. What was amazing about the story was that the brothers were introduced to sex watching one of the cowboys being fucked by a stallion their father kept for breeding purposes. The next month they were out on the range riding and saw some sheep that weren't supposed to be on their land. They decided they would see if they could find the shepards and chase them away. The sun was setting when they found the camp the shepards were using. Foolishly, the boys tried getting close enough to see who and what was in the camp. What they saw sur-prised them so much they forgot they might be in danger, one of the shepards was furiously humping one of the sheep. Like most young teens they were soon caught up in what they were watching. Let me try to remember the story the way Doc told it. 'We were kneeling behind some scrub brush with our dicks in our hands when I heard a growl behind us. Charlie and I had both left our rifles with the horses. When I turned to see what was there, the shepards' dog was not even five feet away, teeth bared, ruff erect and feet planted to spring. I was too afraid to move, the dog looked ready to tear us apart. When Charlie finally turned to see what was bothering me a man holding a shotgun stepped out from behind the rocks where we'd left the horses. 'There we were, caught with our pants down around our knees, watching his partner fuck a sheep and now we were looking down the twin barrels of a shotgun. The man made motions as if he wanted us to move towards the camp. I don't remember which of us tried pulling our pants up first, but as soon as we did he put a shot in the ground at our feet and told us to leave our pants where we were. 'Neither of us had been around other men without our pants before,just trying to get them off was a struggle against our upbringing. Still the shotgun staring at us was more scary than walking across thirty feet of sand and scrub(?) grass half naked. Charlie was two years older than me, probably fourteen going on fifteen at the time; our father had always told him to protect me, but there was no way he was going to be able to do anything against the two shepards, their guns and dogs. 'By the time we walked into the camp the shepard that had been fucking the sheep was standing by the fire burying a dutch oven in hot coals. I can't remember anything they said to each other besides talking about us having our dicks out and playing with ourselves as we watched the man and his sheep. Charlie and I were ordered to finish undressing, I would have refused except a second dog had joined the party and was acting as mean as the first, keeping us side by side on our hands and knees. 'Though I was younger than Charlie I think I understood at the same time he did that they intended to fuck us. Whether it was something they said or the fact that they were getting undressed, I'm not sure. We started to try crawling away. We hadn't gotten two feet when the dogs jumped us. There was a lot of poking, screaming, yelling and missed thrusts before I turned and saw that Charlie had been penetrated by the larger of the dogs. He was no longer yelling or screaming, there was the biggest smile on his face that I'd ever seen. His smile must have let me relax because in moments the dog on my back had punched at least six inches of his cock up my chute and had begun humping me. Immedi-ately I knew why Charlie was smiling. 'From that rape until we moved here was a ragged path. But once we arrived there has been nothing but a growing community of dog lovers that Charlie recruited from people that he met while selling the shepards he trained or served with in the K-9 Corps. It wasn't until we'd been here five years or so that we decided to help any of our kind to move here.' By the time I moved to town Charlie and many of their original friends had died, but Dr. Harvey was still there and occasionally seen at one gathering or another. It was a real honor to be invited to his house for dinner, I thought it only decent of me to give him a full view of TP. At his age many of the younger zoos in the neighborhood ignored him, a disgrace given all he had done to ensure the continuity of a community where they could be themselves and find others like them. We arrived at the house while cocktails were being served. Even in my best suit I felt underdressed, more than half the men there were in tuxedos and the few women were in formal gowns. There were two other dog/boys following their masters at heel but no real dogs in the house, they had been relegated to the backyard. Seeing the other two dog/boys I felt a surge of pride in my boy, he was by far the cutest and best decorated, also the best behaved. We had been there about thirty minutes when Albert arrived with his brother. I hadn't heard from Tim since I had written him a letter saying I would not take him back. Surprisingly he was in full dress uniform and stood out from the others like a ray of sunshine. It only took me one look at TP to know I'd been right in my decision. On the other hand Tim wasn't yet ready to accept that I wouldn't take him back and didn't stop to speak to anyone until he was face to face with me. I didn't like the scene he was starting to make and led him outdoors. Even now I'm not certain that was the right move, whether it saved damage being done in the house or gave Tim the freedom to explode is questionable. We had barely stepped off the patio into the backyard when he attacked me. I tried my best to use the few defensive moves he had taught me while we were together, but I was unable to stop him. I had fortunately left TP in the house, he was watching through the patio door and when Tim exploded called for help in defending me. Help came too late. I woke up in the hospital two days later. I didn't know what was going on or why I couldn't speak. After trying to find the call button I knew must be around the bed somewhere I drew the attention of the people surrounding the next bed. Someone called me a nurse and then a doctor showed to explain what was happening. Tim had broken my jaw in four places and my left forearm in two, he had crack a few ribs and smashed my right ankle. The doctor and nurse left me alone to think about what had been done to me and the operations I was still going to undergo. I waited about an hour until TP, still bandaged on the left side of his head, walked in the room. He had obviously not known how I would allow him to be dressed, he had a long overcoat covering his entire body looking like the prototypical flasher. Only when he stood beside the bed did he unfasten the button and show that all he was wearing were his Pre-Christmas gifts and a chain connecting his nipples with Alligator clips that Rosey had given him after our visit to my mothers. There were a lot of orders stored up in my head that I desperately wanted to give him, but all I could do was write that I was glad to see him and that he had forgotten his proper greeting. I really didn' expect to see him disconnect the catheter from the waste bag but he did it smoothly and quickly drew the tube between his lips to drink straight from my bladder like he had a straw into my body. Knowing that TP still would treat me as his master I had laid my head back to enjoy the sight. I must have closed my eyes for a few minutes or seconds, when I opened them again I saw the teen from the waiting room three days earlier peeking through the curtain. His face didn't show surprise or horror, but desire. There wasn't a thing I could do except return the wink he'd given me that afternoon, I hoped that there might be a chance for more before one of us left the hospital but didn't really expect there to be. Later that evening Albert showed up. He tried explaining that he and Dr. Harvey had told the police I was mugged by a stranger. For an hour he tried to get me to not name Tim as the one who had attacked me, I wasn't planning on ratting him out, but I enjoyed hearing my boss beg. Finally I negotiated with him, my bills were paid, I was given a medical leave of absence from school, Tim would be out of town within forty-eight hours and a few perks I'll tell you about later.