Title: The Kennel
Author: gaybutnotvanilla
Link: http://gaybutnotvanilla.tumblr.com
Part of the military canine unit, he sees his dog is watching the scene intently. So intently, the dog is actually on the point of leaping up. He pets his dog, part in affection, partly to calm him, and partly to hold him in place.
“Sorry, boy,” he says in a soothing voice. “I know you like to go first, but it was the Labrador’s turn. Be a good boy. That’s it. Wait your turn. He’ll be done soon. That’s a good boy.
“See? The Lab’s already started to cum. Just a couple more minutes before he can get his knob out of the bitch.
“Stay there boy. The Lab’s already turned around. His knob’s still stuck inside. You’re a good boy. Stay there. That’s the way.
“Don’t worry, boy. You heard how that recruit howled when the Labrador’s doggy dick went in. And how he bucked and shouted trying in vain to buck the Lab off. So he’ll have plenty of energy left for you. I’ll even give you a doggy treat if you make him howl again.
“Almost there, boy. The way the recruit is on his hands and knees, there’s no way he can get out of those arm or leg restraints. He sure put up a fight, but I got his legs tied good and wide. Hear that? Those sobs tell you he’s good for seconds. And the puppymakers from that Labrador will help you slide right in…
“There! The Lab’s out! Your turn, boy! Up! Your turn! Go for it! Fuck, boy! Fuck!”
His dog knew that last command well. The dog had also learned that “Nooooooo!!!!” from a bitch must mean “keep going.” And that other things, like “I’m not a dog!” or “Someone help me!” didn’t mean anything but that the bitch was liking it. And besides the pleasure of pumping doggy sperm in the warm chute, he liked that he usually got a doggy treat when he was done.
It’s important that a military dog handler sees to his dog’s sexual needs. And if all you have is a recruit mouthing off and calling you a dog lover, well, you do what you must. That includes teaching the recruit what doing it “doggy style” is really all about.
Once all the dogs were taken care of and happy, maybe he’d take a turn with the recruit. Maybe even spitroast the guy with the Lab’s handler, a bit of a looker himself. After all, the handlers garnered more respect from their dogs when the dogs saw their pack alpha masters getting off just like the dogs did.
,,,
Once everyone had had a turn, and the recruit now sporting a dog tail butt plug, the handler had to admit that it was a fun fuck. Plus, the dogs seemed to really enjoy this particular recruit. The recruit still had some life in him when the two handlers got around to stuffing him with their own cocks. The handler decided to submit a surreptitious suggestion to headquarters.
Later, after the recruits graduated boot camp, a list was posted on the bulletin board to notify all recruits of what their postings were. The yell of “Nooooooooo!!!!!!” marked the exact moment this recruit learned of his posting. Recognizing the voice, the ears of all the dogs in the canine unit perked up and the dogs all began to yip and wag their tails.
Apparently, once recordings of the recruit voluntarily taking doggy dick had somehow gotten out (the restraints having been removed from the recordings by simple computer photoshopping), the recruit’s posting to the canine unit as OBB (official breeding bitch) became a fait accompli.
The recruit actually had tears in his eyes when, escorted by the MPs, he reported at the canine unit for duty. No one seemed to mind. Once stripped, they locked on what was clearly a doggy collar that said “Bitch.” It would never come off. His “dog tags” were made to hang down in front, looking rather like his dog license.
Since he was to be the bitch, they locked on a chastity cage “to help him feel the part.” After all, female dogs don’t have cocks.
They then led him to the “cleaning station” in the bathroom. It was in an open area, visible to anyone that entered. A drain was located underneath, and a column was in front. He had to on the 8-inch dildo-like device, hit the button on the column to raise it (preventing him from getting off at the same time), and log in his name to start the automatic cleaning sequence. It automatically cleaned him out,varying quantity of water, measuring pressure, and letting water out as needed. The cycling continued for a 35 to 45 minute period until he was squeaky clean. At that point, the last injection of water up his bum unknowingly included female -dog-in-heat pheromones (usually tailored to the particular dogs being given a treat that day) as well as human lust-inducing hormones. He’d never really know why male dogs always wanted to hump him, or why, in about an hour of being doggy-dicked, he’d find his balls plumping up and his cock straining against its little metal cage.
They gave him a shirt. Standard-issue color like the man in the photo. On the back it said, in 2-½ inch letters “Bitch In Heat.” It was the only shirt he’d be allowed to wear again. (In fact, when he got home, he found all his other shirts and pants were missing.) It was an important uniform: the back was padded so that dogs would not hurt his back with their claws while they went about their business. Thus they were actually doing him a favor, though it would take a year for him to figure that out.
He was not allowed to wash the shirt for a month. His scent would become so infused into the shirt that the shirt still smelled like him after washing. In this way, the dogs equated his particular smell with a bitch in heat, thus reducing the need for the expensive “bitch in heat” pheromones he was receiving daily.
His shoes were replaced with special shoes, the bottoms of which made doggy paw prints in the dirt as he walked. He was then given a set of knee pads. His hands were locked into mittens, which also made paw prints as well as prevented him from trying to remove anything. From that point on, he was told his only communication could be doggy barks, yips, or whines while at the Kennel. When he tried to ask a question, they gave him five swift paddles to his ass. It took repeated “lessons,” but patience was a part of being a dog handler, and their new “puppy” would learn eventually.
They led him to the breeding area by means of a leash attached, not to his dog collar, but to a ring at the base of his chastity cage. Attaching the other end of the leash to a carabiner at the end of a rope that went through an eye ring embedded in the ground, they were able to get him on his knees by the simple expedient of pulling on the rope. If he wanted to keep his balls, he had to follow the rope until eventually, on his knees with just a foot or so of play from the underlying eye-ring, they locked off the rope.
When he felt that cold nose on his balls followed by a quick lick from a wet, rough tongue, he knew what was about to happen.
The end of the day was marked by him first receiving a dog tail butt plug after his last breeding session. He could then turn in his mittens and receive special PT shorts. The PT shorts were one size too small. They thus crawled up his ass crack, accentuating both his ass cheeks in back and the bulge from his chastity cage in front. The dog tail from the butt plug extended through a split in the seam right above his asshole. He absolutely had to let the tail through the hole for it to be at all comfortable. The shorts had something stiff along the seam which also served to prevent him from being able to push the plug out. He was so horny with his plump, full, slightly purple balls, he found he rather liked the fell of the plug up his ass.
He then had to go around and pick up all the dog poop in all the kennel areas before being allowed to leave, including his own, if any.
Afterwards, still in his “doggy uniform,” he was allowed to walk to the Mess Hall for dinner. His hairy legs were visible from near his crotch down to his dog-paw-print shoes, except the part of his legs hidden by his knee pads. His doggy tail wagged as he walked, his t-shirt announcing himself as a Bitch in Heat. This was his official daily uniform, required to be worn whenever not on immediate duty at the kennel. In fact, only when he was on official duty was he allowed to turn in his PT shorts and butt plug (the latter placed into a sterilizer for the day) to be replaced with the paw mittens. Thus he had to wear his shorts, knee pads, bitch shirt, and dog tail into the Mess Hall for breakfast and dinner, much to the delight of everyone else there. The constant snickering and jokes was humiliating. It got worse when, after dinner on his way home, he would hear “I’ve got a bone for you, bitch,” as he was forced to his knees and made to give a blowjob to whoever was there demanding or watching it.
Lunch at the K9 unit was just as bad. There, his food was delivered in dog bowls, his water dish more often than not filled with one or two people’s piss (and woe be to him if he didn’t finish it all). At least there it wasn’t public, although he didn’t know about all the recordings being made and sent around.
One day, he was fed up, and took out the plug on his way home. He couldn’t throw it away, of course. He wasn’t stupid, after all. He had no way of knowing the plug actually was neutralizing some bitch pheromones inside him. As he was about to follow up by removing his shirt, he was knocked down by a full size Golden Labrador. With a happy bark and a wag of his tail, the Labrador immediately began to breed him. The dog was so heavy there was nothing he could do, even as people stopped and took his photograph. It was just so sudden. He realized that, embarrassing as wearing the t-shirt that declared him a bitch was, he had to make sure he always wore it just for his own protection. The Labrador’s claws would have ripped his back to shreds. As he stumbled his way home, it turns out there were several neighborhood dogs that would get a lingering scent of the bitch pheromones and mount him. It took a long time to get home that day.
He was eventually told his doggy training was over and he was expected to be cleaned out and in proper position in the field, on his own, by the time the work day started. Punishment would be appropriate for a misbehaving dog. After one time when he was five minutes late, and he ended up with a blistering red ass before doing his doggy duties, he was never late again.
He learned it was normal for a dog to only take a minute or two to fuck, but then, after they first started cumming, their doggy dicks would swell and stay inside for another 15 to 45 minutes, even after turning around until they were back to back. This was always the most humiliating part, resulting in laughs from anyone watching and a sore ass from the dog trying to pull out.
He also learned that, when one of the other men called him “Puppy,” he was expected to use his kneepads and either give the men a blowjob or take their cocks up his bum. “Good puppy!” they’d say. And then they’d give him a biscuit. As this was the closest he came to human sex, he found he didn’t mind. He’d even eat a biscuit from his doggy bowl even though it was obvious five or six guys had cum all over it. “Good puppy!” they’d say and scratch him behind the ears.
Besides him seeing to the needs of the K9 unit, many people on base brought their own male dogs over to breed two to three times a year, believing that it would help calm their dogs down. They were right. Those one duty didn’t mind; they often got a tip for their trouble, though they never passed it down to him. He didn’t really get a say in the matter. His handlers or the dog’s owner also got some great recordings as the soldier had no choice but to do his duty as the dog, wagging his tail, got his rocks off. It amused those watching no end as the Bitch’s locked cock and slightly purple balls bounced in rhythm to the doggy thrusts.
After a year, they outfit him with a muzzle, then taped over his mouth. They then put a dog mask over his face, hiding the fact he was essentially gagged. They then drove him to a tattoo parlor. After strapping him down, they inserted a vibrator up his bum, moving it until it was against his prostate. They then put a condom over the cock tube. Once all set, they brought the piercer in, and told the piercer in front of their “doggy” what they wanted. That immediately started some doggy whining, which was the only sound the hidden muzzle would make in response to movement from the gagged mouth. They explained that their “doggy” liked to whimper and beg, but that he was to stop if, and only if, their “doggy” ever said “no” or “stop.” The doggy’s chest and crotch were immobile. So, despite a lot of doggy whining and thrashing of the outer limbs, he got both nipples pierced. Due to the properly placed vibrator, combined with blue balls from a year without cumming, the puppy underwent his first anal orgasm, even locked as he was. It happened just as the second piercing was being finished, and no one could tell if the obvious screaming into the gag was from the pain of the piercing or the nearly-forced orgasm. Perhaps both, since he fainted.
He woke up on the way back, his muzzle gone, asking for something to drink. He was given a glass, where he greedily drank the contents down. The lack of hesitation made for good TV. This was particularly true as a recording had been made of his ejaculation that filled his condom over half full. The recording also included the ejaculation of five other cocks into a glass, and the emptying of the over-half-full condom right on top. Thus, he drank down his own cum and the cum from five other people (the four in the vehicle and the piercer himself). “Thank you, that was good,” he said before waking up enough to remember the piercing, feel his sore nipples, and ask “Hey, what the fuck???”
Each day, while he was being cleaned out, someone took care of maintenance on the piercings, including rotations, salt water washes, etc. as needed. Once the bandages came off, the piercings would show wonderfully through his t-shirt, initiating a whole new round of guffaws in the Mess Hall.
And where most recruits would eventually earn ranks that gave them crossed guns or other military insignia on their uniforms, this recruit’s insignia would consist of a man on all fours with a dog behind him, doggy-dicking the man doggy style.
After four years, when his tour of duty was up, they took him back to the same tattoo parlor. They again used the vibrator on him, waiting to start the tattoo until he looked like he was indeed “in heat.” Though they strapped his arm down to prevent it moving, they didn’t bother with a muzzle this time. Still, he whined like a beaten puppy the entire time, barking as he came into another condom. He left with a tattoo above his right bicep. It was very well done, showing a dog obviously humping a man. In simple, easy-to-read block letters, the phrase “I’m a bitch in heat” was above it, and “I take doggy dicks up my ass” was below.
The next day he had to see the military career counselor to receive advice on post-military career goals. By tradition, the man being counseled was ordered to strip for the meeting, helping to signify that the man was no longer in the military. Thus the counselor got to see his pierced nipples, which by now had little dog bones hanging from then, his chastity cage, and his new tattoo.
And so, to get him started on his new career, he was first sent to a gay porn studio that specialized in kink, not the least of which was chastity, “forced” sex, and bestiality. His chastity cage was a hit (the military told him that the lock had fused and could never be unlocked.) At first, they used makeup to cover his tattoo. Ultimately a dvd of him forced to take doggy dick was made, followed by a copy of him getting the tattoo, which the military had given them. Followed by more dvd’s. The one of him being bred by a dachsund was a big seller.
Thus, he became famous within those appreciating these kinks, and got him enough money to open up his business “Doggy Dearest.” The slogan was “Drop your anxious male dog off, and pick him up later happy and satisfied.”
Who says the military doesn’t prepare a person for a career afterwards?
