Adam awoke one morning, completely naked, with a headache. His nudity was the first thing he noticed. The second thing he noticed was that something was wrong with his ass. It felt strangely filled. When he tried to sit up he realized that there were thin straps around his thighs, which connected to something on his butt. He craned his head over his shoulder and saw to his dismay that they were strapped to a dildo that was buried inside him, the straps obviously keeping it in place. It was no ordinary toy, either; on the protruding end was mounted a scruffy length of fur, like a dog’s tail. With a start, Adam realized that he also had something tied to his head. Feeling it, he discerned the shape of a pair of shaggy ears. What was going on?
Adam glanced fuzzily around at his surroundings. He was not wearing his glasses, so he could not see very well into the distance, but his near vision was fine and he found that he had been sleeping in a small circular dog bed. Confused, he tried to stand, but his legs felt very weak and would not support him. Between the weakness and the odd sensation of the artificial phallus penetrating him, he was forced to collapse back onto his knees. He shuffled over to the nearest piece of furniture; a kitchen table, as it turned out, and rested his arms on the edge, wondering what to do next.
Suddenly he heard someone approaching and a sharp voice said, “Down!” He turned to see a tall, dark-haired young man who looked to be in his twenties. The man was standing with his hands on his hips. “Down!” he repeated.
Adam was confused until the man strode over and pushed him off the edge of the table. He gave a slight yelp as he was thrown back onto his hands and knees. “Bad dog!” said the man. “No jumping up!”
Adam tried to open his mouth to question what was going on, but the strap around his chin that held on his ears seemed to be interfering with his ability to speak, and the only thing that came out was inarticulate mumbling. He heard the man sigh. “The lady at the pound said you’d take training,” the man said.
What lady? What pound? Again, Adam tried to ask what was going on, but again, he couldn’t seem to speak the words. The man bent down and ruffled his sandy hair. “Don’t worry boy,” he said. “You’ll like it here, I promise.” He started to walk through an open doorway into the living room beyond.
Adam tried to rise to his knees to follow, knowing he could not stand, but even that felt weak and strange. Finally he fell onto all fours and shuffled along that way, which was easier. He trotted after the man, still confused, but hoping that maybe he would be offered some explanation. The man sat down on the couch and picked up a book.
Adam crawled up to him, not knowing what else to do. He tried to say something to get the man’s attention, and though it was still inarticulate, the man put the book down and looked down at him. “What is it boy?” he asked. “What do you want?”
I want to know what’s going on! Adam tried to say. More incoherent muttering.
A small smile stretched the man’s face. “Timmy fell down the well?” he asked. Adam looked down and clenched his teeth, fighting tears. He was so desperate to communicate, desperate to know what the hell was going on. Why was he here? Why was he trussed up like a dog and being treated like one?
The man sighed and patted the couch next to him. “Come on,” he said. “Come up here.”
Uncertain, Adam used his arms to lever his still-weak body onto the couch. He sat nervously next to the man, waiting to see what he wanted. He was surprised when the man reached around and put a hand on his butt, nudging him forward. Embarrassed, he moved at the hand’s direction until he was seated across the man’s lap. Then the man seemed content to let him be, picking his book up again and beginning to read.
Not knowing what else to do, Adam stayed crouched on the man’s lap. In a moment, the man’s hand came down absently and stroked at him, petting his hair and moving in long sweeps down his spine. It felt... nice, and so Adam stayed put and allowed it, even though he still felt confused and unsure of himself. He must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew his eyes were flying open at the sound of the doorbell.
“Hey Carl!” the man yelled. “Door’s open! Come on in!”
“Yo Roger,” said another man as he walked into the room. This man was almost as tall as the first, with close-cropped brown hair and a sarcastic expression. His eyes lit up when he saw Adam. “Hey!” he said, “Is that your new dog?”
The first man – Roger, Adam thought – nodded. “Just got him home last night. Isn’t he cute? I think he still doesn’t know what’s going on though. He’s been all skittish and nervous ever since he woke up this morning. He keeps wanting to be near me. He must be scared; I don’t think he’s ever been out of the pound.”
“Poor guy,” said Carl. He knelt on the floor next to the couch. “Here boy!” he said. “C’mere little guy!”
Adam wasn’t sure what to do, and glanced up at Roger, who gave him an encouraging look. With a sort of, ‘well, what the hell,’ attitude, Adam crawled off the couch and over to Carl. Carl also petted him and fondled his ears, which, Adam was starting to realize, really felt very good. His mind felt a little fuzzy and, between that and the muscle weakness in his legs, Adam was starting to wonder if he’d been drugged.
Carl scratched Adam’s bare back with his nails, which, while pleasant, also served to remind Adam of his condition; he was still completely naked, with a sex toy stuck in his ass. Embarrassed, Adam lay down on his stomach, hoping to at least hide his naked member. Carl smiled. “Good boy,” the man said. He started to massage Adam’s scalp with the fingers of one hand.
Adam blushed, but the touch felt so very good. The embarrassment combined with the sensuality of Carl’s fingers in his hair made his ass twitch around the dildo, causing the tail to wag back and forth. Roger reached down from the couch to scratch his back at the same time, and the combined feeling of two men’s hands on him was shamefully erotic. His muscles spasmed around the artificial cock and the tail wagged faster.
“Wanna take him on a walk?” Roger asked.
“Sure!” Carl agreed, digging his fingers pleasingly into Adam’s scalp.
“Cool,” said Roger. “Let me just go upstairs and get changed.” He stood and left the room.
Carl glanced up as Roger left, watching his progress as he moved up the stairs. Then he looked back at Adam and stood up. “Come here boy, come with me,” he said. He began walking towards the kitchen.
At the furtive look, hope leapt in Adam’s chest. Perhaps Carl would tell him what was going on. Maybe he somehow couldn’t when Roger was in the room. Hurriedly, he crawled after Carl, following him into the kitchen.
Carl opened the door to a cabinet, and at the sight of the food beyond, Adam’s stomach growled. He realized suddenly that he was painfully hungry, and couldn’t remember the last time he ate. Carl pulled out a jar of smooth peanut butter, closed the cabinet, and sat down on a small upholstered bench by one of the kitchen windows. Eagerly, Adam came forward, hoping that Carl would let him have some of the peanut butter. He was starving.
Carl unscrewed the jar’s top and set the peanut butter to one side. Then, Adam felt Carl grab his hair at the scruff of his neck with one hand. With his other hand, Carl unzipped his fly.
With a sudden premonition of what was about to happen, Adam tried desperately to pull away, but Carl held him fast. After he had pulled out his penis, Carl dipped his free hand into the peanut butter and slathered it all over his member. He yanked Adam’s head forward, holding it right next to his peanut butter-smeared dick.
Adam kept his jaw shut, his eyes tightly closed, but Carl would not let him move. He just held Adam’s face there, waiting. The scent of peanut butter filled Adam’s nostrils, so close, and he was so hungry. Well, perhaps... it didn’t look like Carl was going to let him go anyway. Maybe if he just...
Adam leaned forward tentatively and began to lick at the peanut butter. He tried hard not to notice the way Carl’s eyes closed in bliss as Adam’s tongue bathed his member. He concentrated only on the peanut butter, on how good it tasted. He would not think about the slightly salty taste of Carl’s cock underneath it, or the way it was getting harder and harder under his tongue. He didn’t even feel bad when Carl smeared another handful of peanut butter onto his cock because the thicker it was, the less he noticed what he was eating it off of.
He had probably been licking Carl’s cock for about ten minutes when he heard footsteps behind him and Roger entered the kitchen. “Oh, sick man,” said Roger. “Come on. That’s my dog. Cut it out.”
“Aw, lighten up,” said Carl, his voice slightly hoarse. “At least let him finish.”
“Fine. But don’t do this again, asshole,” said Roger. He scooped up the open jar of peanut butter and screwed the lid back on, taking it back to the cabinet to replace it.
Adam squirmed in humiliation as Roger watched him lick the rest of the peanut butter off of Carl's cock with large, swift laps of his tongue. The brown-haired man had even smeared some of the stuff onto his balls, and Adam had to turn his head sideways to reach it.
Just as he was licking the last of it off, Adam felt Carl’s hand tighten in his hair and had only a split second to realize what this meant and close his eyes before Carl’s cum splattered all over his face. He heard Carl groan happily.
“Shit man,” said Roger walking over to the sink. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”
“Maybe,” agreed Carl, panting, “but it felt really fucking good. You should try it sometime.”
Roger didn’t answer, instead grabbing a dishtowel from next to the sink and running some warm water onto it. The he knelt down and said softly, “Come here, boy.”
His face burning with humiliation, Adam crawled over to Roger. But Roger merely used the warm, wet rag to gently wipe the cum off of Adam’s face. When he was done, he threw the rag at Carl, hitting him in the face. “Clean yourself the fuck up,” he said.
Carl wiped himself off quickly and put his dick back into his pants. “Alright,” he said. “You ready to go?”
“Almost,” said Roger. He reached up onto the counter and grabbed something before leaning forward towards Adam again. With a start, Adam was suddenly aware of how nice Roger smelled, slightly spicy and earthy. He inhaled deeply.
He realized that Roger was putting something around his neck. When the man drew back, Adam glanced down and could just make out the shiny metal of license tags hanging on his chest. A collar. Roger had put a collar on him.
“Okay,” said Roger, fastening the end of a leash to a metal loop on the new collar. “We can go.”
He tugged on the end of the leash, and Adam followed him and Carl outside.