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Date: Sun, 25 Nov 2007 14:35:36 -0600
From: charles Turner <cbru49@gmail.com>
Subject: Home Again: Going to Work 9

Warning! Warning!  What follows is a story of dog on male sex, dominance,
homosexuality, 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 present time.  This set of the story
will probably end about the middle of June, once I have finished them I
will add what has happened in June through November if I don't return to
writing my other stories.  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 9

"Bitch, you gonna get me off?"  I know he was trying to lighten the mood,
but it struck me wrong and I asked Rosey to leave me alone.  For a night
that had started so nicely it sure ended up a mess.  I had thought that I
would finally get to ream out Keith's ass and ended up nearly breaking his
jaw.  Keith and Rosey both got some dog dick, I was left frustrated after
being erect for nearly an hour without relief.  I spent the evening and
most of the night thinking about ways to punish Keith, not worrying about
his feelings.

Classes the next day were sparsely attended, I was pleased that I didn't
prepare lectures for the day.  Even the students that showed up were
hungover or list-less.  After the first class of noncooperation and
participation I decided to try an experiment and ran off thirty sex
practices on a single sheet of paper, divided the rest of the sheet in
three columns and handed them out to the kids that were supposedly studying
public health.  There was onl one or two answers that really interested me
that day, I was worrying about Keith and if I'd see him again.

When I first entered college I had ready a similar study to the quick,
short survey I was taking.  The biggest difference other than the number of
people answering the questions is that my students are basicly from the
countryside around the town, small one light towns, farming communities and
even some hill-billies.  I had often heard that if you spoke to people that
were raised closer to the earth you would get more acceptance of bestiality
and some types of homo-sexuality.  My unscientific survey meant to foster
discussion very much agrees with the common knowledge, of the guys
answering the survey about seventy some percent had a positive attitude
about women having sex with dogs or horses.  Women answered about half of
that.  For guys answering about men having sex with animals the percentage
with a positive attiude was only about thirty percent, much higher than the
six percent I remembered from the earlier study which had been done across
a varied population.  The women didn't have much tolerance for men that
have sex with horses, less than ten percent, but men with dogs didn't turn
them away nearly as much twenty percent.

The surveys did what I expected and the remaining classes were much more
spirited than the first of the day.  As soon as the last class was over for
the day I left, not sticking around for office hours.  The weather was fair
enough when I got to the trailor that I decided to take Ivan and Sean for a
walk in the woods.  I thought that it would probably one of the last we
would get before hunting season began.  When I first moved to the trailor
Albert and Dr. Dick gave me a house warming present, a pair of leggings for
the hounds so they could run through the weeds and fields without getting
totally tangled in briars and stickers.  The leggings looked rather
strange, but they would save me hours of combing and brushing.  I could
have gotten by with shorts and a two strapper, but I threw on a pair of
Levi's and Tee-shirt.  For the first time I left the trailor and headed
towards the farm that I could see out the back and from where Keith spied
on me.

I couldn't keep the boys on a leash in the woods, but I tried my best to
keep them close.  I didn't want them to take off after a deer or one of the
local coyotes.  If they took off and left me they might run for hours
before stopping.  Russian and Irish Wolfhounds were known to chase deer
till the prey died from broken hearts.  After about forty minutes we came
out on the driveway leading to the farm and I decided I could stand to walk
without having to force my way through weeds and underbrush.  I sat on the
hard ground and called Sean and Ivan to sit by me, we weren't resting for
more than three minutes when I heard the hard panting of a runner coming
around out of the next stretch of trees.

As the man emerged from the shadows the dogs both took off, ignoring my
yells. I tried getting to my fett but the three of them were on me and we
were in a tangle in the roadway before I managed it.  I hadn't really
gotten a look at the man, but my hands knew immediately that I was rolling
on the ground with Keith.  "Stop."  All three of them halted in place.  As
I looked around me, all I could see was hard dicks and quivering balls.  "I
see that everyone is happy to see me."

It took us a few minutes of tumbling and groping to sort out our limbs and
get to our feet.  "Keith, I am still angry at you.  You do understand, that
don't you?"

"Yes."

"Do you understand that I'm serious about what I told Roosevelt last night?
I am going to train you to be my slave."  I looked directly into his eyes
and waited for him to dare to refute that he wanted to become a sex slave.
I knew it the first night we talked and having seen him use his mouth in
every way I'd ordered only confirmed my impressions.

"Yes."

I didn't have anything to punish him with at hand unless I tore a switch
from a tree, but I knew how much pressure he would be able to stand when I
grabbed his teat and twisted.  "What did you say?"

"Yes."

"What?"  I increased the pain by twisting the other teat the opposite
direction.

"Yes."  He screamed his answer as if I had been unable to hear him.

"I can hear you.  You just don't have it right."

"What do you want, sir?"

"That's it.  Anytime you answer me,it's yes sir.  There is no other
acceptable answer from a slave."

"Yes, sir."

""Did I ask a question?"

"No sir, I mean Yes sir, no."

"Unless you're asked a question you don't talk.  I will let you know when
you may speak freely and then you may only speak in the third person, never
using the word I.  I will also let you know when you can wear clothes and
now isn't one of those times."  He didn't have on anything except a pair of
nylon running shorts that had crept up into his ass, but I needed him to
understand that he was under my control.  After one look back the way he
had come running he pulled the shorts off and tried to hand them to me.

"Slave, I don't want them.  Throw them in the ditch."  Anytime Sean and
Ivan see things being thrown they try to grab it and between them rip it to
shreds.  Keith had seen them tear up his jockstrap and now he was going to
see his shorts go the same way.  "Watch them tear up your shorts, slave.
Even Sean and Ivan agree that you shouldn't be wearing clothes.  Of course
that's because they like licking your dick and ass; me, it's because you
need to show respect to your master.  So is my slave ready to spend the
weekend on his lessons?"

Keith obviously wanted to say something more than the prescribed answer,
however he obeyed his lesson and remained silent.  With the dogs dancing
around us, we made our way to the farmhouse where Keith had grown up and
still lived. The house and barn both looked in worse shape than what I had
assumed looking across the field, they needed a team of carpenters and
painters.  Even then they might not be salvageable.  The house was an
almost perfect duplicate of the one where I grew up except for not being
divided into two.  "We need to get your collar and leash and then a
toothbrush.  If you have another jockstrap that would be good also, you
might need it tomorrow for a few minutes."

As soon as we stepped onto the side porch I put him on his knees.  I didn't
know if there was anyone in the house, but he now belonged to me and I
didn't really care as long as he had committed to being my slave.  We went
through a creking door into the kitchen devoid of furnishings other than a
small round table, two ladderback chairs, a gas stove and a porcelin sink
fitted into an ancient dry sink.  Clear of furnishings the room had been
whitewashed recently and the floor scrubbed so many times that the wood
floor showed signs of bleaching.  Keith led me to the second floor where we
went into the bathroom.  After twenty questions I learned everything I
wanted to know about his hygienic practices including his enjoyment of
using Cottonelle damp wipes on his ass.

I hadn't thought to shave him until we had been together gor at least a
month, I changed my mind and had him lean over the iron tub and using his
father's straight edge removed the little hair he had between the globes of
his ass.  Afterwards I warned him that if he disrespected any of my friends
again he would lose the complete pubic crown.  That idea brought his dick
to attention. On hands and knees with his dick dragging on the steps it was
difficult and slow going for Keith to lead me to his room on the third
floor.  Much like the kitchen his room was minimally furnished, a single
bed without a headboard or pushed against one wall, a five drawer dresser
at the end of the room, an open bookcase beside the doorway and a round
table and lamp beside the bed.

On the table lay his collar and the lock.  I had to look around the room
for a few minutes to see that the leash was on the middle shelf of the
narrow bookcase in front of a lineup of tanning products.  The shelves held
the only non-essentials in the room.  There was no rug and only a thin
blanket on the bed.  While Keith fetched his collar I looked at the
bookcase, Keith could have been ashamed or apologetic about the
circumstances of his life but he didn't say a word.  There weren't many
books on the shelfs, but there was a picture that I picked up.  Staring on
a burning cross and a tree with a noose was Dr. Anstieff and the Admiral.
The irony of the leader of the Klan raising the boy that was now my slave
started me laughing so hard that I dropped on to the bed.

It was difficult for me to start talking to Keith , still I had wrapped
myself around him and rolling around on the bed finally began to explain
what Rosey and I had been talking about the previous night was Halsey not
his father.  In the eight or nine times I had seen Anstieff at a gathering
I had never seen him with his dick out or his mouth doing more than
ordering people around.  As far as I knew Keith's father was asexual, the
only thing I knew was that he enjoyed wat-ching Halsey taking one person
after another and only let the white shepard fuck, no one I knew had seen
anyone being allowed to blow him.

The eroticism of holding Keith in his own bed and treating him like a slave
under the roof where he had lived his life was too much to resist.  I laid
back and ordered my slave to undress me feet first.  I didn't even think
about the fact that Anstieff would be finished with his classes soon or
that there were no interior doors in the house.  It felt right to me that
Keith lost what he had brought me a week earlier in his own bed.  With eery
piece of clothing he removed Keith become more eager and the tongue bath
I'd demanded became more thorough and intense.  There was nothing on the
night table that could be used as lubricant, until I remembered the suntan
oil I worried that I would be thwarted by that lack.  I didn't want to take
him the first time with only spit and a promise.

He would have fetched the bottle.  I wanted to look at him on the bed and
let him see what he had coming, he had sucked me and licked me from one end
to the other, still when you're contemplating a dick going in your ass it
seems longer and thicker, the proverbial telephone pole.  If I hadn't had
an STD and HIV test returned the day before I couldn't have risked using
him with a condom.  The extra friction of the rubber might be good for some
men and neutral for others, for me?  I hate them.  Both as the recipient
and the fucker, rubbers bunch? Or tear? Or grate?  Let's just say I find
them uncomfortable in my ass. Not too bad to jack off in, that is the total
of their utility as far as my ass and dick are concerned.  A bad attitude
for someone in the public health field, I know.  Maybe, a bad attitude for
anyone in these days.

Keith had his knees bent and his ass lifted off the sheet by the time I
crawled between his legs.  He knew what was coming and there was a smile
stretched wide across his face.  I already knew he was going to be tight,
the first time my fingers had touched his hole I could barely push in to
the first joint.  Getting my six and a half inches in the virgin ass was
going to take time and patience.  Slowly and gently I worked the oil around
and then into his asshole, what is it about assholes that once you have a
second finger inside you want to work a third in and the a fourth and
before you know it you want to have your whole hand inside the man in front
of you?  When I thougt I might have enough oil in him I gave Keith the
order to oil my dick.  I wasn't expecting it to feel so much like a massage
and masturbation, he nearly had me pumping out cum before I was in him.

While I always prefer to be fucked doggy style (surprised?) I much prefer
to fuck missionary.  I want to see the look on his face and feel his cock
against my stomach beside thinking I can get further inside as I
unfailingly am capable of feeling bone hitting bone that way.  If really
carried away kissing is not out of the question, it is much easier on the
fuckee and can be prolonged if you wish.  Most of the time taking a virgin
ass I would have suggested he be on top, except this was sealing a
coventant between us about our places in the rela-tionship, mine as master
and his as slave so that wasn't an option.  I was trying to open Keith up
slowly and easily but I have a greedy slave who wanted it all and wanted it
now.

I felt my nuts slapping against my slave's butt when I heard a dog running
up the stairs followed by a heavier thumping.  There was nothing I could do
but pray that the person would stop on a lower floor.  Keith was
frantically bouncing his back and ass on the single bed basically using my
dick as a dildo to fuck himself with.  "Well, I guess I've been right all
these years, you are a little faggot.  Dan, I'm surprised you would fuck my
son, but that better than hanging around with that nigger friend of yours.
Has it been your place he's been sneaking off to for the last week?"

"Anstieff, leave us alone.  Your son is learning what it is to be fucked
and doesn't need his father to be spying on him."  There was no way I was
going to let him intimidate me and I wanted him to know that I had claimed
his son and would do what I wanted with him.

"He's stil in my house.  Until he moves out he does as I say."  I wondered
how angry the father really could get, considering his own activities with
his dog and other men.

"That's not a problem.  If he learns to be a good slave he'll be moving in
with me.  Then he will do as I say and only what I say."  I hadn't even
thought about the idea of asking Keith to move in with me and wasn't really
sure I wanted to have another man move in with me so quickly after Tim
moved out, but I spoke and I knew there was no backing down.

"Let's get him in school and he can stay here on the nights he's not with
you."  I had nodded my haead at the suggestion, I am always a sucker for a
higher edu-cation.  Not only that but a sucker for most any dick that is
stuck in my face, which is exactly what Anstieff did.  The gene that had
determined Keith would have a short dick came from his faher and had been
tempered by his mother, Anstieff only had three thin inches that he
couldn't keep from prematurely ejaculating on my tongue.