Date: Fri, 4 Sep 2009 19:36:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: Sal Marcs <salmarcsluv@yahoo.com>
Subject: K9 Club Initiation

[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between actual
events and the events in this story or the characters in this story are
purely coincidental. This story involves descriptions of sexual acts
between men and animals for the purpose of erotic fantasy and is not
intended to condone such acts. If you are underage or homoerotic material
is otherwise illegal in your area, please do not continue. Author retains
copyright; do not duplicate this story without express written consent by
the author. Comments and suggestions are welcomed at salmarcsluv@yahoo.com]

K9 Club Initiation

This is the story of my surprising and unexpected induction into the K9
club.

I was still in high school, and we lived in the deep suburbs between the
real `burbs and farm country. I had a dog of course, every kid did. Mine
was named Rufus, or Roof for short, a big lab mix that loped around and
sort of lived with us. I say sort of because my mother did not allow dogs
in the house. Ever. The closest Roof got was the basement on very cold
winter's nights. But this story isn't about Roof.

My best friend Kevin lived down the street, and he'd gotten a dog only a
year or so before this story takes place.. His father came home with the
dog, a lab mix too. Roof was sleek and on the skinny side, with a hint of
german shepherd. Brutus, Kevin's mutt, was much more muscular and boxy,
leaning towards some not-too-distant rotty gene. Brutus was aptly named: He
was a big brute. Kevin's father had gotten him from a friend at work that
didn't have the time or energy to keep him. Kevin and his brothers and
sisters were thrilled. The trouble was, Brutus only listened to Kevin's
father. He was, at best, surly with the rest of us. Where Roof would play
Frisbee or catch for hours, Brutus couldn't be bothered. Roof and Brutus
got along, but only for short periods of time. After a while, Brutus would
start to try and dominate Roof, who didn't particularly like it, and after
some snarling and snapping, the two would stay away from each other.

I guess the story begins with Kevin approaching me in a panic. His father
was taking the family to Georgia for two weeks, ostensibly on
vacation. He'd been offered a short contract down there and had swung a
deal for a trailer home for the two weeks. It was near the beach, and would
be almost like a real vacation. The catch was of course, Brutus. There was
no way they could bring the dog with them, so Kevin's father had decided to
send him to a shelter. I naturally agreed to look after Brutus for the two
weeks, if I could get clearance from my mother.

My mother was a neat freak. Dogs, cats, any animals of any kind were
forbidden from entering her overly-clean house. My older brother was off at
college, so it was me and mom in the big old house. It was without a doubt,
her house. My brother's room had been converted to a sewing room
practically overnight, and the stuff he and I had accumulated together over
the years relegated to the basement. It was as if when my brother left, I'd
been kicked out too. I didn't really notice it, but I was very aware of her
rules. She worked the graveyard shift as a nurse at the hospital in town,
and every night before she went off to work she made sure everything was
neat as a pin. If it wasn't, it was my job to make it so between the time
she left and the time she got home. Not that there was anything to do, she
practically sterilized the dishes. That night, before she went off to work
I breached the subject of Brutus. After some serious negotiations, I
managed to swing the deal. Mostly.

 Kevin was thrilled, as were his brothers and sisters. The last hurdle was
with the sleeping arrangements. Roof slept in his doghouse on the side of
the house in the yard. Brutus was an indoor dog. It didn't even occur to my
mother that a dog might be allowed inside, much less allowed to actually
sleep in rooms where humans lived. In all the years we'd lived there, I'd
made very sure she'd never set foot in Kevin's house, lest I be forever
banned from going there. That night after dinner, I played up how thrilled
the younger kids were not to have to get rid of Brutus, and then carefully
I negotiated the basement for him. She reluctantly agreed, so long as he
kept him away from the laundry room, and he was to be inside only
overnight.

A few days later, Kevin dropped Brutus off and his packed family station
wagon roared off to Georgia. Brutus barked and ambled off to sniff
around. He was familiar enough with my yard. He and Roof sniffed each other
and Brutus ambled off to find a place to sleep off the summer heat. I made
sure to feed him in the old garage away from Roof, and to keep the two of
them at arm's length as much as possible. Brutus was happy to lay under the
hedge in front of the house and watch Roof and me doing the weeding and
playing with the hose. He even came out to play a bit when I put the
sprinkler on which brought my mother out to remind me that dogs stink, and
wet dogs stink more. If he was going to be inside, I better make damned
sure he was dry.

After dinner I usually fed Roof the scraps on the back porch. When I opened
the back door, Brutus came charging in, used to the routine of his own
house. My mother freaked, and as I coaxed the big dog down to the cellar
with Roof's scraps, I got yet another lecture about having `that animal' in
the house.. She dusted herself off (although Brutus hadn't been anywhere
near her) and ordered that I sweep up before going to bed. Then she was off
to work.

I finished up my chores and homework and took a shower. I was getting ready
to watch some television in the family room when the sound of Brutus
scratching at the basement door startled me. I raced across the house to
the cellar door, terrified that he'd mark it up. I tore it open and yelled
at him, but he just stared at me. He started to come into the kitchen, but
I blocked his way. He looked up at me, puzzled, than headed down the stairs
again. I felt badly for him, used to curling up with his family, he must be
miserable alone in the damp basement.

I followed him down the stairs. There were some old blankets in the utility
room my brother and I used to use to make forts. I gathered up a few of the
old blankets and put them at the bottom of the stairs. Brutus stared at
me. I called him over and he sniffed at the pile, then stared at me
again. I nudged the blankets with my foot, and he looked at them again,
then walked over to the laundry room, whose door I'd forgotten to
shut. After some pushing and pulling and coaxing, I managed to get him back
to the bottom of the stairs and shut the door to the laundry room before he
could go back there. I pointed to the blankets and ordered him to lay down,
which he did for Kevin's father on command. He just looked at me, walked to
the laundry room door, and pawed at it.

Frustrated and a little tired of the whole thing, I grabbed his collar and
yanked him away. He snarled and snapped at me. I jumped back, tangling my
feet in the blankets and went down.  In the next few seconds, several
things happened. First, I landed on my right hand, and it hurt like hell. I
was on all fours, and Brutus jumped on me. My adrenalin was still pumping
from him snapping at me, so I jumped to my feet. Unfortunately, he'd dug
his dew claws into my sweatpants. As I jumped up, he slid down, taking my
pants with him. With my calves pinned, I went back down, this time more
controlled than the last. I was running on instinct now, to protect my hurt
hand, and to get the hell out of there. The fact that I was bare-assed
wasn't really a consideration until Brutus jumped on me again. This time I
was at a really bad angle to jump up.

I felt his claws dig into my hips, this time without my sweatpants on and
my thin t-shirt did little to protect my skin. I knew this was a display of
dominance, and I was pissed. The sweatpants were around my knees, and he
was standing on them, making it hard to spring up like before. I felt a
sharp jab between my nuts and my ass, like being poked with a stick. I
flinched away, and before I could register that this wasn't just a display,
his cock found my hole and plunged in.

It didn't really hurt, it was more outrageous than anything. I wanted to
get out from under Brutus, that's it. As the idea of him being in my ass
filtered up through everything else that was going on, anger took over. I
arched my back to roll away from him, which provided him with an even
better angle of attack. I reared up on my knees, and was stopped suddenly
by a searing pain in my ass. In the few strokes he'd pumped, his knot had
passed into me.

I was no country bumpkin, and my uncle bred wire-haired terriers for a
living. I knew what a dog's knot was, and what it was used for. What I
discovered in that moment is that it hurts like hell when it's shoved in
your ass, and hurts more when you try to yank it out. I remembered in a
flash how a neighbor had caught a stray mutt mounting his prized standard
poodle and he'd turned the hose on them. My recollection zeroed in on the
yelping and howling of the poodle when the mutt tore his engorged cock from
her. She'd sounded like she'd been hit by a car. I dropped to my hands
again and clenched my ass muscles tight. There was no way he was going to
rip me open like that.

The throbbing in my right hand did little to let me think. Everything was
happening so fast, I felt like I was in a dream.. I felt his knot growing
inside me. Until that moment, it just felt wet back there, other than the
stab of searing pain when I pulled. What I was feeling now was totally new.

As a young kid, I'd had what my mother described as `digestive problems'
and what I knew later as being anal retentive. Not in the pop psychology
way, but in the real way. The `cure' was to give me enemas. I knew what it
felt like to be `full' but this was totally different. The knot wasn't the
sloshy, gross feeling of an enema, it was something alive and
pushing. Brutus was now thrusting in short, staccato bursts, and as his
knot grew, they made me feel like I was being punched on the inside. I kept
my ass in a death-grip on his cock, terrified that he'd decide to yank it
out suddenly.

His thrusts came in little bursts, each one seemed to move that damned
growing mass around inside me exponentially. I shifted around a little to
get myself stable. The angle of my legs was painful, and with only one hand
to rest on and the weight of Brutus and his insistent pounding I was
getting into a pretty precarious situation where I'd be unable to support
myself under him. I didn't want to be there, but I sure as hell didn't want
to drop flat to the floor and be that torn up poodle. When I moved, Brutus
pulled me tighter to him. He was panting like a mad dog and every movement
provoked another round of thrusting and driving. I arched my back, and his
knot slid forward.

In that moment, I realized that my own cock was rock hard, without my
consent or even knowledge. I realize this because the movement of Brutus'
cock gave me an orgasm, or at least what seemed like one. The weird
electrical shock of the movement made my cock spurt as if I'd been working
it for hours.  I can't really say that it was a great orgasm, it just
happened, and quite by surprise. As my ass spasmed in concert with my cock,
the mass of Brutus' knot came into sharp relief inside. I moaned more from
discomfort than from pleasure. Brutus gave a little whimper, as if the
involuntary contractions were uncomfortable for him. As they subsided, he
settled down and the pauses between the short little pumps grew.

I started to relax my rear a bit, partly because the involuntary orgasm had
left me a little light-headed and partly because it was getting near
impossible to keep my ass clenched. I knew enough about the anatomy of that
neighborhood to worry about the inner muscle getting so tired, it just
stopped working. I sure didn't want to tire out the outer one too. Brutus
wasn't yanking or moving much, just panting and drooling a bit between my
shoulder blades. As I relaxed a bit, the pain around my opening subsided
considerably. I closed my eyes and reached back, gently touching where his
cock entered me. Brutus gave a low growl and pulled his forepaws, a clear
message. I brought my hand up to my face and was grateful that there wasn't
any blood on it. From the momentary touch, it seemed that the part of his
cock actually at the entrance wasn't much bigger around than my
thumb. Beyond that, I could feel the massive knot, throbbing in time with
his heart,
 pulsing against my stretched walls.

I experimented gently contracting and relaxing muscles down there, getting
a feel for what was in me. The knot of course, was the first focus, but as
I moved my attention deeper, I felt heat, and a hard fullness. Just at the
base of my cock I could feel a tickle of pleasure. I knew it was my
prostate, and I guessed that the knot was rubbing up against it. Guiltily,
I squeezed to make it tingle more.. My hand found my still rigid cock and I
stroked it absently. Beyond the prostate, up deep, I felt a heavy feeling,
which I guessed was the shaft of his cock rearranging my insides. I
wondered just how deep it went, since the heavy sensation reached all the
way up to my navel. I stroked faster.

This orgasm I was building myself. The combined sensations, augmented by my
contractions and careful movements, was now bringing me to a hell of a
nut. Brutus, ever the brute, decided to hop off my back. This little step
sent a white-hot jolt of pain through my ass as the knot pushed against the
opening. Brutus must have felt the movement too, as he stopped with his
left leg on my back and the other three on the ground. He looked over to
me, his tongue lolling out of his jowls and panting. I'd clamped down hard
when he jumped, and now the burning ring had my undivided attention. Brutus
moved and the knot settled deeper again, but I kept my ass clenched tight.

My hole burned something fierce. Squeezing it didn't seem to be doing
anything, and Brutus wasn't looking too keen on moving. I relaxed a little,
and went back to stroking. Despite the jumping off and the ensuing pain, my
cock remained fully at attention, dripping precum. Although the knot had
moved off my prostate, I could now feel a distinct thumping along it, which
I supposed was a vein on Brutus' cock. My orgasm built again, and
inevitably, my ass relaxed as I came closer and focused on more urgent
needs.

A dog's knot is not a smooth sphere, it's more oval and bumpy. It tends to
be wider on the sides of the cock than on the top or bottom. I knew this
factoid somewhere deep in my brain, and what caused it to surface with
blinding clarity was what happened when I relaxed my ass just enough to let
Brutus' massive knot turn in my chute. It's hard to describe the
feeling. Somewhere between pain and discomfort was a totally new sensation
of being massaged. The knot's irregular shape swiped my prostate just as my
orgasm was nearing it's peak, and for the next half minute I felt like
every muscle in my body exploded at once. My cock shot so hard that the cum
actually splashed back up from the floor and onto my belly and chest. My
ass clamped down tightly, this time involuntarily, which was good since
Brutus took advantage of the turn to bring his leg down and reposition
himself behind me. Had I had my wits about me, I would have panicked at the
 movement, but at that moment I was completely somewhere else.

With his weight completely off and settled into this new position, I
relaxed my back and felt his cock surging inside me. For a moment I
wondered if he was taking a piss, but realized that I was feeling his
ejaculate. I'd assumed he was done, since we'd been tied for what must have
been fifteen minutes or more. His cock throbbed in me, keeping my own spent
and sensitive cock at full mast. I squeezed my insides to time with his
gentle surging, and my cock dripped. I was gasping for air, having just
experienced and explosive orgasm and now feeling yet another one building.

Brutus brought me back down to reality with a little tug. I clamped down,
and he let up. I fidgeted, he fidgeted, and we moved in tiny motions as I
struggled to keep his cock positioned inside where it didn't hurt. The
problem was that it either hurt like hell or felt so great I wanted to
whack off another one; there was no happy resting medium. The exchange
between us continued, and my cock begged for attention again. I stroked,
even though it was sensitive. Each time Brutus gave a little tug, I
squeezed and fidgeted, and my head spun with the sensation of pleasure.

I shot again, this time not as explosively or as mind-numbingly as
before. My cock ached now, having emptied my balls three times in such a
short time.. Brutus pulled, and this time, held tension. I clamped down,
and a tug of war started. I knew I would eventually lose, by I wanted to
postpone the inevitable separation as long as possible. Maybe his knot
would deflate to the point where it would slip out easier than it had been
rammed in. There was no way I could hold back a 90 pound dog with my ass,
but then again, he was pulling with his dick, so it was a contest to see
whose pain threshold was the highest. I squeezed my cheeks tight,
contracting my sphincter as hard as I could. This magnified the burning
sensation. I thought I felt the knot subsiding, replaced with an urge to go
to the bathroom.

Brutus didn't tug, he just leaned away from me. I tried leaning towards
him, but it made him step forward, which just increased the tugging much
more. I leaned away. I felt the knot starting to slip, and with sheer
willpower I reversed everything, and bore down hard to expel it.

There was a flash of blinding pain, and I shouted. I felt in the split
second my ass being opened up wider that it had ever been, then a smooth,
hot sliding feeling. On being forced open, my ass contracted on it's own,
and the painful burning shot up my back to my brain. Brutus trotted
forward, and I fell forward in the opposite direction, free of him at
last. I lay for a moment, letting that searing pain subside enough to let
me move. I looked over my shoulder at Brutus, who'd curled up on the
blankets and was licking himself clean. His cock was about eight or so
inches, still engorged, but not too thick. The knot, which I'd both feared
and enjoyed so much, was just a bit smaller than a ping-pong ball. Still
big enough to prevent his cock from retracting into his sheath, I stared at
it a minute, then slowly got to my feet.

I pulled up my sweatpants and discovered that they were soaked. The feeling
of having to go to the bathroom immediately returned, and I dreaded having
to use my ass at all. I trotted up the stairs and practically ran to the
guest bathroom off the kitchen. I barely made it to the toilet when my ass
opened up and I heard a gush of liquid. I was trembling, imagining the bowl
filled with blood from an internal rupture. My hole burned terribly, but I
pushed again and another angry stream shot out of me. I took a breath and
looked down, relieved that the bowl was still white and not red. The water
was cloudy and foamy, and I realized I was expelling Brutus' cum.

I wiped, seeing streaks of red from my abused hole, but just streaks. I
decided another shower was in order, and an hour later I was in bed, my wet
sweatpants strategically hidden in the back of my closet, and my ass
throbbing from my induction into the K9 club.