'Looking For A "Why"' {Kenneth Yap} (M^M 1st bd mc reluc sm cbt slow) [1! ]

This story is not a replication of any life events, all persons and events mentioned herein are purely fictional and any resemblance otherwise is purely coincidental.

Local legal rules still apply, please be in compliance with your domestic laws before proceeding to dirty your mind. The usual nag: Please do not proceed if you are not of legal age in your country.

This story is the original work of the author, Kenneth Yap or "A Stray Pup". Reproduction is not allowed, any copies saved can only be used for personal consumption only. Do contact me about your thoughts at a.stray.pups.world@gmail.com .

Woof,

A Stray,

kY

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In one paragraph:

Christoph finally came out of the closet to his parents and was sent packing. He finds out later that his supervisor was aware and also out to a select few in his life. Finally Christoph surrenders to serving Brett, his supervisor, as a pup for 3 days then decides to commit to the ownership in full, adopting the pup name "Rufus".

Chapters in Roman numerals are about the beginning, Greek numbered chapters are relating to the pup being fully owned.

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Nota bene: No dogs were harmed in the visualization of this story, no one commits suicide, everything is fully consensual, neither were kids involved.

Looking For A "Why", Chapter i to 6.

“He who has a why to live can bear almost any how."

Friedrich Nietzsche

Chapter i: Today On "Happy Birthday"

Rufus blinked a few times, sniffled a bit. The sun was up and peeking through the curtains, but the bedside clock said "too early". Painfully, a rasping sound ground through the wall. Lyon was banging another girl again, the names of ladies he went through the alphabet once a month. The lucky prick had the apartment to himself, his dad bought it to rent out but since it was near the University of London where Lyon studied. Rufus rented a room there because of the same reason and also that it was cheap. Where Rufus had to work to pay the rent and eat, Lyon just “stuck his key into locks” and paid people to take his exams.

Answering the stomach's call. Rufus peeled out of bed, sent out a text message and went to wash up. Groggily, Rufus stepped out to get breakfast, a staple in a specific manner: 4 Eggs in a pot of boiling water, 4 slices of bread, wheat or rye, whichever was on discount, into the toaster; one cheesed, and one with bacon; and a bowl of greek yoghurt with a spoon of honey. As the yoghurt was cleaned out, the toast was ready, and when that was finished, the eggs would be perfectly soft boiled. A glass of milk was the closer.

A cheeky looking lass walked out of Lyon's room clumsily heading for the door just as Rufus was returning to the room. She huffed a “hi" and left, Rufus just continued back into the room. Plonking in front of the MacBook Pro, Rufus waked it to check for new mails. Ten showed up, eight spam, one from school and the last totally unexpected. The sender was a "Lynn Bernard", Rufus' eyes grew bloodshot, fully awake now.

Rufus shut the clamshell and sent a text. When the phone dinged a reply, Rufus picked out a stick of cigarette, Davidoff's, and stepped out of the apartment to have it. Rufus had this one vice, but was a controlled smoker so it was affordable. Toying with a chain around Rufus’ neck, there was a time when birthday celebrations were a happy event but not on this 9th of April, Rufus was smoking alone in the spring morning, watching the office crowd scurry around.

Rufus’ partner popped out of nowhere with a cake and flowers. Rufus' head dipped and kissed the hand offered. Both of them went into the apartment, Rufus in tow after stubbing out the cigarette.

Chapter 1: A Lesson In Time.

Nine months ago, a fine summer breeze swept across Christoph’s face, it shared a flowery scent which he treated with disdain. Who wouldn’t after being thrown out of their own home. His father sent him on his way with a duffel bag that he had 15 minutes to pack. Slinging the bag on his back, Christoph got on his bicycle and rode, not looking back. He heard his father still cursing after he rounded the corner. Sure his mom wasn't very happy with her husband’s decision but she said nothing.

Christoph had no place to go to. His close friends were all out of the country with their families but he had to continue working through the holidays to pay for school. His father made just enough to pay the bills after his company went belly-up two Novembers ago, and he got a job at the convenience store down the road. He was not young anymore and no one really wanted to hire someone who was going to retire in 6 years, he took what was given to him.

Mindlessly, Christoph ended up at the cafe he worked at near school. Since he was there, he parked the bike by the fence and went in. He saw his supervisor at the cashier and waved hi. "Oi Chris, whats you doin’ here? Your shift's in two days or do you love your job so much?"

"Nah, Brett, happened to be by."

"Want a drink? I can offer that to one of the best workers here.”

"Sure?"

"Its just one drink, not the whole shop.”

"Since you put it that way, barista's choice then.”

Brett smiled and made the drink himself, his best interpretation of a hot cocoa. Made with an extra bit of chocolate and frothed cream instead of milk, as compared to worse yet, a cheap knockoff of heated chocolate milk. Handling the drink personally to Christoph, Brett smiled a, “Made with love." Christoph took the warm mug and took off to the table beside his bike. Taking a sip he was sent to a place like heaven but it all crashed when he remembered that he was going to sleep on the street or some disgusting motel with semen stained mattresses. That made him dig his head into his hands, nose against the cold metal table.

Feeling a pat on the back, Christoph raised his head. Brett was standing beside the table, his apron off. Break time. Messing Christoph’s hair, Brett said, “Crappy day?”

"Sorta, could be worse I suppose."

"Join me for a smoke and summarize the story into 5 minutes."

"I could do with one right now.”

Both of them stepped out to the pavement. Brett took out two sticks from his box of Davidoff's and offered one to Christoph.

"So come, share."

"Naw, nothing really, just the usual shit on a different day thats all."

"Does the `usual shit’ include a HUUUGE bag with a shirt sleeve sticking out?"

"Yeah, well, I thought of...”

Brett was beginning to get irritated, "Chris, don't lie to me, you're bad at it.”

"I got kicked out of home.”

"Sucks. You came out to them?” Brett said casually.

Christoph's eyes went wide. “What are you saying?”

"Oh Chris, you're gay, be proud of who you are. I've known for a long time." Brett grabbed Christoph's crotch while saying that. Christoph recoiled at the gesture. "Don't hide it. Wanna show me the pictures you have of me on your phone too?” Christoph took two steps back, holding the backrest of the chair for support. The half smoked cigarette fell from his fingers and he fell into the chair. “Here's a thought, you could get up close and personal. If you need a place, I can offer a bed till next week if you want. I'll be done here in 2 hours at six. When you're done gawking, let me know. And thanks for wasting my cigarette."

Brett put out his finished cigarette and returned to the store. Sanity returned to Christoph. The day was at its best. His dad kicked him out, his supervisor knew he was gay and he still had no where to stay. The night was drawing in, and Christoph had to make a choice, crash at Brett's place or get a motel.

Collecting himself, Christoph decided to make use of Brett's offer. Taking the whole two hours to finish the luscious chocolate cream, along the way, he surfed around the web on his slate looking for a place to rent, hopefully near school and work but far enough from his parent's place. And as inexpensive as possible.

Christoph watched Brett remove his apron and prepared to leave. "You’re still here. I take it that you’re joining me. I'm famished, dinner?" Thinking about the day’s events, Christoph had forgotten his hunger. Brett’s shift ended at 6 in the evening which meant that Christoph ate six hours ago.

"If you don't mind my intrusion.”

"If I did, would I let you take my photos without saying anything? Silly filly. Lets go to the diner across from my place, they got some great burgers." They had a casual conversation about what Chris' plans were going forward, Brett offered to ask the shift manager to give Christoph a few more shifts a month if he needed the money.

Chapter 2: Planting Seeds.

align=justify]Reaching the diner, Christoph locked his bicycle to a lamp post and joined Brett at a window seat. Brett raved about the cheeseburgers and took the liberty of ordering two, even before Christoph could say no. Christoph was not a beef person, an influence from his mother. The last time he had a steak was when he was 19 years old, and then 8 years later, today. Not denying, the burger was great, so was the guilt he had.

At that point in time, Christoph was disgusted with his mom, but still he respected her anyway though he could not forgive her for not trying to get him to stay. But it might change in time, the wound is still too fresh, a scab had not yet formed to stem the bleeding in his heart.

A little more on Lynn Khoo, she was from a former British colonized island in Asia. She was given a chance to study abroad and she took the opportunity. Her father being from a community called the Straits Chinese was a successful businessman since in his era, they were the only ones to be able to converse with the locals and British fluently, making those who knew how to take advantage of the situation rich. As a matter of perspective, the currency conversion at the time she left was a whopping $6 to a pound. She came to England to study and ended up staying and working here, sending money home in copious amounts after conversion.

Lynn brought with her to England her belief in Buddhism and abstained from beef. She never imposed it on Christoph but he joined her anyway after a series of odd events. He got her sharp facial features and deft fingers, colours he got from his dad, brown hair with matching brown eyes and skin that looked mildly tanned.

Over dinner, they got to know each other better, including the fact that Brett did actually like Christoph. Somehow, as with men, sex became the topic and one thing they both agreed on was that vanilla was dead boring. Christoph admitted that he never properly had sex with another man, and only sucked off one guy at the local play bar who was in an executioner's hood. He saved some money from working and bought a dildo and some plugs among other toys that he could afford along the way and pretty much played with himself thats quite all.

Brett held some secrets of his own only revealing that he was a top who had played with same subs along the way in the past 3 years, usually at a playroom and seldom for more than two nights. "In my eyes, play was just that, the sub just enters into a desired reality for awhile then it ends, there is no commitment. It's as if the whole concept has been misunderstood. Chris, its sad when the master makes the effort no fulfill his role as best as possible but the slave just keeps remembering that at the end of it all, usually after they get off, that that's it."

Christoph was surprised at the words Brett chose and how openly he spoke of playing. Sure, he had his set of fantasies, but he still looked toward Brett as his supervisor at work. But thinking back, Brett had set an exemplary image of a great supervisor. Brett was not bossy but under his watch, people seemed to be happy and more work was done; customers usually came back to look for him and usually left happier when he was at the helm as compared to the rest of the superiors who just threw their weight around.

"Thats a scary thought, Brett, are you implying that you'd like a slave of your own? Isn't it a heavy responsibility? I've read some articles and they seem very serious."

Looking Christoph straight in the eye, Brett spoke with seriousness, "Chris, it is a responsibility, but the feeling of owning and training a willing slave just feels so rewarding especially when the boi becomes the praise of other masters, but praise is given only as a perspective. There is love and care involved, besides whips and chains, and sometimes when the right stray comes along, giving them a home feels rewarding. So is breaking them."

Unconsciously Christoph let out a quiet "Rufff." He was being slowly being reeled in by Brett unknowingly. Chris always wanted to find that 'sub-space' that some play biographies had mentioned, it intrigued him as to how a person being flogged or whipped can find pleasure and euphoria, it was just oxymoronic.

"I started out as a sub, but ended up topping-from-the-bottom because the top's rope work, technique, ideas were shot, basically they had an 'idea' of what a top should be and tried to bring it to reality. It just didn't work. So I worked at it, learning, watching, identifying mistakes, but most of all I wanted to be a great, not just good, master, to bring by subs to a different level. Sometimes, the sub left the session without having an orgasm, but they always begged for another even after they went home and wanked their balls dry, it was amusing, in a good way."

"Another soda, Chris." Rhetoric. Brett got the drinks before Christoph had a say. It was Brett's design, to dominate the situation. Walking to the diner, Brett always kept in front. When Christoph asked to be excused to go the washroom, he received a "Yes you may." It was subconscious imprinting that Brett had been using on Chris for a long time, even at work.

In the men's room, Christoph looked into the mirror, splashed some water in his face. There was something happening but he did not know what. There was a certain desire for something, but he could not quite place it, but something was different. Leaving the washroom, he sat across Brett and bowed his head and said "thank you", startling himself.

Suddenly the conversation turned to focus on Christoph, what his desires were, where his ends would be reached, what he was willing to do and the likes. He was being put in mental bondage willingly but unknowingly. Brett grinned some then called for the check. Both glasses were emptied, and when Chris tried to reach for it, Brett in a commanding tone said "Stay".

Chapter 3: Watering the Garden Patch.

As Christoph squat to undo the chain around his bicycle, Brett stood near, putting his boots in Christoph's sight. Chris pretended not to notice the action and stood up, slinging his bag on his back. "Come." Chris followed Brett, pushing his bike, across the street. They took the elevator up to the penthouse unit. It was the only unit on the floor and beyond a metal gate that protected the short walkway was the main door.

"Leave the bike here, boots can stay on."

Huh? Christoph definitely felt something change now, he noticed that Brett took on a commanding stance and his mind felt uneasy but something else told him to comply and comply he did. Entering the unit, Brett walked in without looking back. He walked to the island counter and picked out a kind of glassware foreign to Chris, a single malt glass, and poured a fifth of whiskey from a bottle that bore the name "Caol Ila", another new thing to Chris who was used to hearing names like "Johnnie" and "Chivas". Oddly, not knowing what to do, he followed Brett to the counter and sort of waited.

Pointing to the bar stool, Brett just said "sit" in a rather unemotional manner. "Brett, may I have a glass of water?" Odd way to speak since it was just the two of them.

"No. When was your last orgasm?"

That caught Christoph, pants down. "Uhh, umm, I..."

"Give me an answer now." Sternly, Brett.

"Last night, sir."

"Right. How often?"

"Usually once a day, sir." Wait, had he been addressing Brett as "sir"? Why? Puzzling.

"Do you want to serve me for the next two nights?"

"I'm not sure, sir." There it was again!

"Good, a truthful answer at last." Christoph was feeling very intimidated by now, and very small. Truth was he usually shot his load twice, that was on a bad day. More on good days. And Brett saw the lie.

"You're not going to be a sex slave, as in, I'm not going to fuck you. I, however, would like to let you experience being a sub. Or pup as you so prefer to be."

In his mind, Christoph was going, "No, wait, did he use the word 'pup'? I didn't say anything of the sort to him earlier, sure as hell didn't tell anyone about it. Those are MY private desires, leave them alone."

Christoph sharply replied, "Why would I do that? Just who do you think you are?" Hoping that the charade would put Brett off, but there was a compulsion to simply shout 'Please fuck me!' which he was trying to stave.

"I think I am the person you just addressed as 'sir' twice in the past five minutes, and the person who just breached the moat into your fortress, pup. Your balls are probably doing backflips by now if I'm right, and when I asked for your servitude, your pre-cum started dribbling. Dispute me."

Christoph looked down and saw an ugly patch on the front of his khaki pants that darkened. Hell, no, I can't give in. "Fuck off Brett."

"Whoa, pup, big words from a small boy. I would enjoy breaking a strong man's will, but you've already given in. It takes half the fun away but there's no saying. I'm not threatening you, but you're free to use the guest room and leave by the morning."

Christoph maintained, as best, his insulted look. "I would like some water, please." with nothing nicer to say.

"Glasses are in the top cabinet, there's water in the fridge and in that carafe."

"Thank you, I'll take the guest room. Just for the night only."

"As you wish. Down the walkway, last door to the right. Goodnight, pup."

"Stop calling me that."

Brett just walked off, entering an open door joining the hall. Must have been his study since there was the sound of a keyboard tic-ticking soon after he entered. Silence governed the hall, save for keyboard ticks and percussion band in Christoph's chest. Christoph wanted to get a drink but he could not find the strength to move from the stool.

Looking around the loft, Christoph noticed the size. No way a cafe supervisor could afford the luxury. Anyhow, he was sitting facing the kitchen area, looking behind was a glass wall facing the River Thames. The view was brilliant, street lights lining the embankment, the cityscape silhouettes looking like Lego's gently glowing under a moon unhindered by clouds. Christoph was mesmerised.

The hypnotic ticking of a lone keyboard was oddly making Christoph calm. He was ignored but not alone. Removing his focus out the window, he saw what must be the bedroom doors, along the walkway, 2 left, 1 right, and one door opening from the hall. Only the furthest door on the left was closed.

Christoph turned back to look at the River Thames completely oblivious to the fact that Brett had stopped typing. His gaze was interrupted as Brett walked past and turned into the open door on the left with a folder clipped under his arm. A silky warm voice floated out through the door, bringing the chilly air.

Christoph recognized the song, one by Lena Horne.

Chapter 4: The First Roots Grow

Finally after being rooted for half an hour, Christoph found that on Earth, only 15 minutes walked by. He punched his calves to see if they still were eluding him before standing up. Slowly walking to the white light that lit the hallway floor in a trapezoid, Christoph felt the halogen bulbs warm his skin along the way. The pace he had, would make a snail proud.

Hesitatingly, Christoph entered Brett's room. Brett was reading an article in the folder and ignored his presence. Christoph inched his way over as silent as his boots would allow and knelt down facing Brett's side profile and bowed his head. Brett continued to read below the soft glow.

After leaving Christoph on his knees for a good 20 minutes, Brett said without looking over, "What is it?"

"May I be your pup, sir?"

"You changed your mind."

"Yes, sir."

"And why should I take you in now?"

An awkward silence accentuated a wall clock's counting off the seconds to 2300h.

Christoph shifted his weight uneasily around finding words to put into his mouth, still ignored. "Because I wou..."

"Have you no respect for me?"

"N-n-n-n-no, sir, I didn't mean that, sir."

"Then learn to begin and end with 'sir'. And try to lie to me again."

"Sir yes, sir. Sir, I have read about being a sub, and I've wished to try and serve a master, but I never dared to, sir. Sir, sir seems to know that I wish to be a pup but I do not know how to be a sub in anyway, let alone a pup, sir."

"Those aren't compelling reasons, more like statements, pup."

"Sir, I would like to experience being trained for the first time, sir." "I'll think about it. For now, I want you to write out a list of limits and desires while I make my consideration." Saying which, Brett put a piece of paper and a pencil at the edge of his desk.

"Sir, may I, sir?"

Brett just nod once. Christoph took the instruments and thought about what to put down, he did not know what to expect or what he really liked. Considering carefully from the videos he had watched, he set out to draw his limits.

Limits

- Scat

- Blood

- Unprotected sex

- Branding

- Fire

Desires

- Learning to serve a Master

- Giving control to a Master

- Learning to let go

- To be owned by a Master.

Christoph looked at the list he came up with and found it hard to expand further. Looking at his desires, they pretty much said the same thing four times, in different words. Finally, after looking through the list another two times, he felt that he could do no better.

"S-sir?"

Brett just reached out his left hand to take the tools. He looked at the nine points and asked, "Is this all, pup? You're saying its okay to be asphyxiated, whipped, tattooed, drink piss, and everything else not listed here?"

"Sir, yes sir. Sir, I believe that sir will not harm, but instead teach me, sir."

"So trusting. I actually like how your third desire sounds, it's a tipping point for me since I've not actually seen any play-only subs tell me that. Take this sheet of slave rules and temporary slavery contract, read it thrice and if you feel so, fill in the necessary." From a drawer, Brett extracted a clear folder, flipped open the cover and took out a single page, and another double sided page from near the middle. Passing the papers to Christoph, Brett returned the folder to the drawer and returned to his reading. The whole time since Christoph knelt beside him, he refused eye contact.

Christoph took the two sheets and under the soft fluorescent glow, read the header of the single-sided sheet, "Dog-slave Rules" calligraphed by hand and laminated, it set out 13 rules of conduct, and a slave oath. The other sheet had big bold words of "Non-Permanent Slave (Dog)" as a title, extending to the reverse page detailing the clauses that revolved around ownership being given to the named master, how the master should care about the well being of the slave, and other details that would protect everyone involved and signed in on the contract.

Christoph was about to reach for the pen at the edge of the table when Brett coughed. Christoph retracted his hand. Same thing a second time. He must have missed something. Re-reading the sheet of rules, he saw, "4. The dog must be given permission before using furniture, equipment or anything human related by THE MASTER." Oh, bummer. Bad. Putting the slave rules down, he inched closer to Brett and placed his chin onto Brett's thigh.

"You may speak. Have you read every word twice at least?"

"Sir, yes sir."

"Fine. So I take it you're ready to sign the contract?"

"Sir, yes sir." But Brett felt something odd, could not point out exactly what was. "

Fill it out then, and date the duration for July 10, 2012 2359h to July 13, 2012 2359h. Let's see if you reconsider your situation after that." "Sir, yes sir."

Glancing at the clock, Christoph would be under contract in 19 minutes. "Sir, I'm done sir."

Brett took up both pages, signed and put in his name on the contract, then stood up. The pup was in his way. Firing arrows, the pup slithered aside. Brett went to his study and made 2 copies of the contract. Returning to his room, he filed the original in a binder, another he showed to the pup and left it on the table saying to collect it at the end of the contract, the last was to be beside him. The sheet of rules went back into the folder.

At 2350h, Brett said, "This is the last 9 minutes of being a free person, I decided to take on giving you the experience you asked for through your show of sincerity the past hour. I know your knees hurt, but that's your choice. Stand up and appreciate your freedom that you have chosen to relinquish to me for the next 3 days, including when you're at work."

Christoph slowly stood up, wobbly from the softness in his legs. Brett stood up and told him to follow. They went back to the kitchen, Brett pointed to a water carafe beside the fridge and got two glasses. Handing one to Chris who filled both glasses, Brett's first. Finishing the water, brett left the glass in the sink. Christoph finished his, washed both glasses and returned them to the rack.

"Take your bag and come, pup."

Brett walked off with Christoph in tow, and entered the room with the closed door. Flipping on the wall switch, a ye/low light was cast at the entrance. The rest of the room was dark, no view of the outside too. But the smell, it was a cornucopia of scents, the most prominent was leather, strong tanned hide. Next was a hint of wood, a dash of chlorine and very fine traces of sweat. It must be a playroom.

"Shut the door and set your bag on the bottom shelf."

Christoph realized the door was heavy and also padded with leather. When it shut, a click said that it was locked, but then, that was one of only few sounds audible, besides that of their breathing. The shelf was partially visible. When his back was turned, Brett slipped the last copy of the contract onto a holder on the door. A digital readout on the back of the door flashed 00:00 in red. And silence was broken by Brett.

"It starts now. Strip but I want the boots on."

Chapter 5: T Minus Zero

Christoph started, remembering rule 6, "The Master's orders are to be carried out as promptly as possible." Taking off his clothes, he folded them neatly beside his bag on the shelf. When he only had his boots on, he knelt back down then sat on his legs facing Brett, his temporary owner and master. Brett returned the the wall switch and pressed a button. Along the walls, a soft glow dimly lit the perimeter revealing some, wooden structures around, sling, bondage cross attached to a bed, toys along the western wall and a fuck horse. The gleam that the pup saw on a higher shelf was a short length of chain. Brett took the chain and ordered his pup to 'come'. The pup crawled in front of its Master and knew the significance of the chain. It went around its neck and ended in a lock.

"Heel." Brett commanded as he walked over to the fuck bench. "Up" was the next. Brett began to strap the pup into position, pulling its doggie jewels away from its body. Going to the toy wall, Brett took out a wooden paddle, a thick cane and a cat o' nine tails, laying them on the pup's back.

"For your stay, I will teach you to be a properly trained dog, and slave. You may speak, first to recite the slaves oath, verbatim. Any mistake is a paddle stroke. Begin."

"Sir, yes, sir." A loud slap on the pup's posterior brought forth a yelp. "Have you already forgotten rule 1, pup?" "Si... Master, no Master. Master, sorry Master."

"The slave's oath."

"Master, the slave has given itself to its Master, unconditionally. The slave is to serve its Master unquestioningly and out of love and respect. Its Master may punish the slave but it is for the slave's good....."

Another lash from the paddle, "slave's betterment. Start over."

The pup received another 3 lashes from the paddle before getting the oath word for word, its ass cheeks beginning to redden. Its Master put a hand in front of the pup's face, it licked with gratitude, remembering rule 7, "The dog will show appreciation for any punishment received by its Master."

Master Brett scratched it behind the ears and then said, "The dog-slave rules. This time time, the cane.

This was bad, the pup had forgotten a few of them having read it only three times.

"Rule 1, the dog will address only address its owner by 'Master' and all other persons, 'Sir'.

Rule 2, the dog will not speak unless given permission only by its Master.

Rule 3, the dog has surrendered all humanity to its Master, any act resembling that of a human will be punished.

Rule 4, The dog must be given permission before using furniture, equipment or anything human related by Its Master.

Rule 5, the dog will communicate with barks or whines, howling is prohibited.

Rule 6, the Master's orders are to be carried out as promptly as possible.

Rule 7, the dog will show appreciation for any punishment received by its Master.

Rule 8, the dog should dis play affection and cease when instructed otherwise.

Rule 9, the dog will be as naked as legally possible only wearing identification of being owned.

Rule 10, the dog will consume all materials off the floor or from its Master's hand.

Rule 11, the dog will perform toiletry functions outdoors or in a specific location as specified by its Master.

Rule 12, the dog will only travel on hands and knees unless explicitly allowed by its Master.

Rule 13, the dog is to accept sexual activities from its Master or permitted peoples."

The pup received 10 strokes of the whip for messing up the order, and was made to repeat the rules each time. By the final recital, the pup's butt cheeks were screaming bloody murder, tears were flowing like the Niagara falls. A puddle of sorts actually formed at the floor of the fuck bench. Then its master made a diabolical command, "Recite the rules in reverse, double whip for each mistake."

The pup whined when it could not comply immediately from having to recall the rules in order, then going backwards. Welts were forming in uneven rows, the pain was overwhelming, but suffice such, the pup was well versed with the rules in an hour. The pup was not enjoying the moment, but Master Brett took the oath and slave rules with no concession for error. When the pup finally got to rule 1, its breathing was laboured, eyes and butt cheeks swollen. Its master stroked its brown mane, matted from sweat then held it in front of the pup for it to lick, there was no hesitation.

Unbuckling all the straps, Master Brett said "Down." slowly it clambered its way off the bench and curled at its master's boots. There was no fight available to use, physically exhausted, it was only able to lick the boot of its master. Using the tails of the whip to stroke the supine body drew a flinch, but that was it.

"Heel." The pup slowly got up and moved to the left behind its Master, reluctantly sitting on its heels, immensely focusing on blocking out pain. There was nothing remotely erotic about being whipped to remember the rules, and the pup had no choice on the matter. Its master walked off towards the shelf, pup in tow, and reached for the first-aid box. Telling his pup to 'stay', Master Brett pulled a stool up behind the pup, setting the box beside him.

Antiseptic solution on fresh welts brought life to the pup, yelps and whines with ardor arose to a chorus as the cotton ball moved across the pup's rear. Aloe cream did help, marginally.

Packing the box up and replacing it back on the shelf, Master Brett patted the pup which nuzzled his leg in return. "Let me give you some help for the night. Roll over." Master Brett took out a leather cock and ball pouch from his toy wall and wrapped up the pup's bundle of joy, securing it with a lock. The pouch felt like there were ants and reached to touch it, the ants were pin-pricks in the leather.

"Enjoy the fun, pup. Now heel."

Master Brett walked over to the bondage bed and opened a door to the attached cage underneath and said "in". The pup crawled into the short space, made small by a wooden panel dividing the cage such that 2 pups could be stored in the 7 foot long space. The pup had to curl up to sleep the night only covered in boots and the cock and ball pouch.

"Oh right, forgot something, doggie needs a tail." The pup whimpered, never having a plug up its ass before. Its master came back with a long furry tail ending in a 1.5" diameter plug. "I wanted to go with the smaller one, but since you displayed defiance, you get one step up. Come and lick your new tail."

Carefully turning around, the pup licked the plug apprehensively. "I suggest you get it properly wet because thats your lube." The pup wrapped its mouth around the plug and left a glob of saliva on it. "Right then, turn around now. Remember, the plug stays in till I take it out or else." The plug was pushed against its outer sphincter, to protest by clenching its ass muscles would only make things more painful, so the pup relaxed and let its new tail in. The plug felt oddly at home, not too large to hurt but small enough to notice, and long enough to push against its prostate. Fun.

"Goodnight then, pup. Get some sleep, I'll be home tomorrow so more training."

Master Brett turned out the light and shut the door. Only after awhile did the pup realize that the room was not stuffy. A slight humidity in the air, cool but not cold. The pup curled up, and instinctively pulled the tail up between its legs, careful not to rest its hind legs on the pouch. Crying from the whipping made its eyes heavy a long time ago, and no matter the circumstance, sleep came quick. A rude awakening came once in the middle of the night from an erection, it rolled to the other side and drifted back off to la-la land soon after the erection went away.

Brett had invested a bit of money in the playroom's design. The climate system was connected to his computer systems as were the night vision cameras in the four corners of the room. He could tweak the climate, watch and hear his subs using a VPN tunnel anywhere that had internet access. A sprinkler system was also built for the just-in-case events. The furniture were built by himself and 2 subs that committed two months to serve him. They had tested the furniture personally in various ways thinkable. They came back whenever possible. They entrusted Brett as their Master and key-holder.

Chapter 6: How To Start A Day.

Before pulling on the duvet, Brett checked in on Christoph. Hearing a shallow sniffle and snore, he climbed into bed. Massaging his cock, Brett decided to only edge himself, as usual, sleeping naked. Sleep came quick for Brett. The pup actually managed to dream about serving its master, as Brett just slept.

The morning broke as Brett stretched out. Picking up his tablet PC, he checked in on the pup, there was some stirring in the soundless and completely dark room. The pup's breathing became a bit choppy and a quiet snore returned. Oh well, time to let start the day. Brett went over to the playroom and set the lights dimly. Previous experiences of turning the lights on full power made the slaves a bit edgy and aggressive for the start.

Sticking his foot between the bars, he nudged the spiked pouch. The pup woke with a little surprise and bumped its head. Brett laughed, it was his little prank he played on new slaves in the cage. The three feet height below the bed always caught them. "Good morning, pup." And received a happy bark in return.

Opening the cage, he let the pup out to stretch. Unlocking the pouch, he freed the pup's package which sprang to life as the teeth rubbed against its cock head stimulating it somewhat, now getting sensitive after 36 hours of abstinence. Its balls danced around a little. The pup wagged its tail and licked its master's foot, rubbing its body against his legs.

"Good pup. Ugh, pup needs a shower. Heel."

Walking back to his room, the pup stopped to wander into the guest's room. When Master Brett looked behind and found no pup, he yelled out, "PUP! HEEL, NOW." The pup scampered out and sat on its boots at its Master's side. Master Brett smacked its head, "Don't you dare disobey me this early in the morning." The pup's head drooped. It kept at its Master's side into a big bathroom, a shower stall big enough for four to shower simultaneously.

Master Brett pointed to a tray with newspapers took out its tail and commanded, "Go poop." the pup felt embarrassed being watched as it defecated but it had to go anyhow. Not given the order to pee, the pup only let go its poo on the newspaper. Master Brett sat himself on the commode and did his share of business, reading some news on his slate. The pup finished its job and placed its head on its Master's lap. Master Brett pulled his cock from between his legs and placed it in the pup's mouth.

As the pup began to suck on its Master's bone, tasting the drips of acrid morning piss, its mouth was flooded with more piss. "Don't miss a drop now." The pup fought its gag reflex, it had never had piss, let alone from the tap. Barely managing to leave its gullet open, the piss flowed freely into its belly. It received a pat on the head, it fought the urge to retch.

"Good start, pup. You'll get used to it." The pup felt a sparkle in its belly from the praise. "Stay." Master Brett stood up and opened the wall cabinet and took out some duct tape then proceeded to wrap the tops of the pup's boots. He then walked into the shower stall and commanded the pup to follow.

In the shower stall, Master Brett pointed to a spot near the shower head and commanded the pup to stay. He turned on the shower and an ice cold stream of water jetted at the pup's back. It jumped alright. The water soon warmed, and Master Brett proceeded to wash his ass then sat on the pup while he showered. The pup's Master wasn't heavy but the water made the tiles a bit slippery, even worse when its Master started soaping up. After washing himself, Master Brett allowed the pup to pee before using a stiff brush and some dog shampoo to scrub the pup, leaving its skin bright red but smelling like a garden of lavender.

Using a towel hanging outside the door, Master Brett dried himself then threw the towel an the floor outside the stall and commanded the pup to roll over and wipe himself after shaking off excess water. The pup was happy to be clean. Master Brett couldn't stand a dirty pup as well. After drying off, it proceeded to rub against its Master and jumped up to suck on its Master's bone. Briefly washing the plug in the sink, Master Brett presented it to the pup. The pup sniffed at it, and a pepper of shit bits were still on it, but clamped its mouth over the plug as expected of it and back into its ass the plug went.

"You're trying to make me cum aren't you? Naughty little thing, you." As Brett's erection stiffened. He let the pup bring him to the edge and then shouted "STOP!" The pup did, looking sad. "Not yet, pup, you'll get a taste of my milk soon. But I'll need to work on your skills there. Come for breakfast and bring the towel.

Proudly holding the towel between its teeth, the pup kept at its Master's heels into the kitchen then fighting not to give away its chew toy. Master Brett played tug-of-war for awhile then got impatient and commanded it to 'give'. The pup wagged its tail then sat hoping to play more. Such innocent little pleasures. Its eyes fell when the towel went into the laundry basket though it saw an opportunity as a tail of the towel leaked from the top of the basket.

From the dishwasher, Master Brett took out two dog bowls, filled one with water and a milk, the other with fish flavoured kibble. Cheap dog food would have sufficed but the fish oils kept their health in order.

"Stay."

Master Brett started on his own breakfast - toast, half boiled eggs, yoghurt and a glass of milk. Setting the food on the table, he pushed the dog bows near the island counter where he would have breakfast. Setting his food down, he returned to his bedroom to get his slate and continue reading the news.

Commanding "take" to the pup, Master Brett began his breakfast as well while thumbing through current events, all the time watching the pup's reaction to kibble. The pup sniffed at the food, then apprehensively licked up a kibble. Chewing on it, the taste wasn't all that bad, but it was dry and stuck to its throat on the way down. It lapped some milk and then continued on the kibble alternating between food and liquid to keep from choking until everything was gone. It then sat beside its Master's leg to wait.

Brett finished breakfast awhile back and was just reading and observing. The pup soon got bored of waiting and when it sneaked a peek and saw that its Master was smiling at an article, snuck off to the laundry basket to take the towel. Disaster. The basket tipped over, spilling its half full contents. Giving its best "I'm sorry" look, while sitting in front of the tipped contents. Master Brett just ignored the pup. It slowly slithered its way to its Master and jumped up to suck on the bone but was roughly pushed aside. Attempt to lick its Master's foot was also declined. "Down, Stay."

Putting down the slate, Master Brett rinsed his plates and poured more water into the dog bowl. Returning the laundry back in its place, he commanded the pup to heel and walked back to the playroom. Turning up the brightness in the room, Master Brett collapsed the spanking horse and put it behind the door. Pointing to where the horse used to be, the pup was commanded to sit.

From the toy wall, Master Brett took a leash and a very thick and heavily padded hood. Stuffing the gag and breathing tubes into place then laced and locked the hood, leaving the pup in a vacuum like space with restricted breathing. Clipping the leash on, Master Brett led the pup to the bondage bed above where it spent the night. The pup bumped its head against the wood then felt the leash being tugged upwards. It clambered up onto the padded bed then felt its Master's hand press its back down.

Lying down face up, Master Brett guided the pup's head into the attached stocks and placed its wrists into the appropriate holes then shut and secured the top half. The duct tape was removed from the pup's boots then ankle cuffs added. Rope was used to spread the pup's legs to the edge of the bed frame.

A liquid started flowing into the pup's mouth from a hole it the tube. It had been plugged earlier. The liquid started as cool water, then it turned warm and tasted of piss. The flow seemed continuous, then stopped altogether. Including breakfast, the pup now had 1.5 litres of water sloshing in its stomach. The plug on the gag was replaced.

Implements were slowly added to its body beginning with nipple clamps that went straight onto the tits, not touching the areola. The cold steel body fell onto the pup's chest. The pup felt lube being put on its cock then an intruder pushed its way into its urethra. When the catheter tip nudged against its bladder, it felt the urge to piss. In doing so, the catheter slid in and the baloon was pumped to secure it in place, but no piss flowed. Odd. It felt the nipple clamps being pulled upwards and secured of sorts. Outside the hood, Master Brett attached the nipple clamps over a pulley overhead, a pee bag was used as weights. The catheter was attached to the bag and the bottom end of the bag to the gag. So it was drink or stretch its nipples. Opening the catheter valve, pee flowed into the bag then out into the gag. The pup found out that it could somewhat block the pee from flowing, but it felt its nipples being stretched further, it got a vision of how things were.

Master Brett then proceeded to wrap its balls in rope and pull them away from its body, adding a pound of lead at the end. An elastic cock ring was felt around the pup's cock head and a cold pad stuck to its distended nuts. Nothing fancy just yet. A cold plug replaced the pup's tail, then the fireworks started. There was no ramping up the current, Master Brett put the ET-312 on torment mode and let loose hell on the pup's cock, balls and ass. The anal electrode was fucking its prostate with each pulse. The pup started thrashing as best as it could, causing its nipples to be painfully pulled with each movement. It slowly fought to calm itself.

The final addition were clothes pegs connected by a string along the sides of the pup's body. Each side had its own string which was placed in each paw of the pup to hold onto. The ends had a kilo of weight that would fall and pull off the pegs when the pup released the string. One kilo doesn't seem much but try holding onto them while fighting to stay still from being shocked.

Ensuring that the breathing tubes would not kink, Master Brett attached them to a water bubbler to restrict its breathing even more. Leaving the playroom, Master Brett went to the laundry basket and fished out two very used jock-straps that he used to the gym. He returned and placed them into the bubbler, feeding the pup's nose with his pheromones. Proud of his work, he patted the pup's hood and went out.

The kitchen clock read 11:40am. Master Brett got dressed and took a hike for food, intending for some grilled chicken salad. When he reached the street, he got himself a smoke on the way to the salad bar. While waiting in line, he checked in on the pup using his smartphone. Half hour in, the pup was still holding onto the strings, pee bag a tenth full, cock bouncing. The pup's body had a sheen of perspiration and a sliver of pre-cum dripping, leaky faucet style.

Ordering his salad with a balsamic dressing, Master Brett ate his lunch by a window seat enjoying the sights of people going about their day and lost in his mind's picture of his pup being punished. He reached down to massage his cock but remembered that he was in public so he straightened his jeans instead.

Remembering that he had groceries to buy, he finished lunch and went to pick up some rye bread, eggs, vegetables some fruit and a bit more fish kibble. He did not check on the pup again till he reached home at 1400h. Putting the groceries in place, he went back to the playroom. The pup was quivering, the pooled pre-cum was dripping off its body. The right side of pegs had come off and saw the pup's white knuckles on its left hand. Picking up the crop, he smacked the inner thigh of the pup causing a jerk and release of the other string. A yowl was heard, Master Brett's cock jumped and leaked a bit. The pee bag had filled up half way, putting slightly more than a pound of weight on both nipples.

The e-stim was turned up a notch and the pegs replaced as before just at different points before leaving the pup to receive its punishment.

Outside in the Master's study, he had one monitor to watch the pup, and another to monitor the cafe. His employment as a "Supervisor" was purely to get to know and work with his employees and meet customers to listen to them. He actually owned the cafe but only one manager knew that. He ran the management portion from his home, worked the floor to ensure things were in line.

Watching his other investments, he traded some equities just for the extra bonus income. Looking at the pup, it seemed tense, waiting to be surprised by its Master. Back to working the store and investment management.

The pup had been in its predicament for about 4 hours now, it should be cooked proper. He went back, the bubbles were still going, great the pup was still alive. Shutting the valve to the catheter, he deflated the balloon and extracted the catheter. Wanting the pup to drop the weights again, he ran a pinwheel around the pup's body eliciting giggles, tremors, bumps and finally when the pinwheel was moved across its cock head, both paws let the weights fall.

Master Brett stopped the electro and the bubbling slowed as the pup took a few deep breaths and returned to somewhat sanity. Taking off the pads and plug he left the pee bag on. Squeezing the bag to force pee into the pup's mouth, the pup started drinking. Soon the bag was empty. Leaving the clamps on, he removed the bag and re-plugged the gag. Opening up the stocks he let the pup recollect itself after untethering the bubble bottle.

When the pup looked calm, Master Brett took off the nipple clamps. The pup immediately reached for its tits and yelped a few times in quick succession. Removing the leg restraints, Master Brett took the leash and guided the pup off the bed. Leaving the hood on, the pup was guided out where its Master sat on the couch and watched a TV serial. The pup curled at its Master's boots unable to hear very much. It was tired, in the dark silence, the pup fell asleep.