K-9 Unit

I've been writing for years, but have never published anything before. I decided I'd give it a shot.

This work is my own original creation, but I'm not above criticism. Honest feedback is appreciated.

Let me know what you think.

SPR



K-9 Unit

By SkinPupRanger, c. 2012


Karl glanced at his watch: 8.30. He knew it was early to be heading out to the bar, but he wanted to be sure to be there when “he” walked in. “He” was a man Karl had had his eyes on for a long time. He had eavesdropped on enough conversations to learn the man’s name was Steve, and that he owned a hardware store in the suburbs. He almost always wore his leather cop uniform, tight in all the right places. It had its intended effect on pretty much all the boys, though Karl never saw Steve arrive or leave with anyone else.

He’s too handsome to be single, Karl told himself for the thousandth time. Probably has a non-kinky boyfriend or husband at home, and just gets out to the bars to tease us all. He chided himself mentally for being so cynical, and forced his chin up as he finished getting dressed.

Letting out a sigh, Karl looked at himself in the mirror. He’d worked hard to shed a lot of the weight he’d been carrying around for most of his life, and now he felt just confident enough to try going after what he really wanted. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fit into jeans this small, and he’d had to completely re-lace his boots to tighten the laces. Karl had decided he’d lost enough flab to justify wearing his new bar vest, and he loved the way it felt on his skin. It was warm enough to go without a shirt underneath, and after much internal debate, he decided not to wear one.

Well, after tonight at least I’ll know, he thought as he grabbed his keys.

* * * * *

He should have waited another hour. It was still twilight when he left, and the late summer heat made Karl sweat buckets in his jeans as he walked the twelve blocks from his apartment to The Pulley, the local leather bar.

It wasn’t as deserted as Karl had hoped, but knew that most of the evening patrons would be gone by ten or so, when the leather crowd started to arrive.

Karl ordered a beer, then found an empty pub table with a view of the door. He didn’t drink much, and nursed his beer carefully until it was so warm it was unpalatable. Checking his watch, he saw that 45 minutes had already passed. The crowd started to thin out as folks left to catch a late movie, or called it an early night after getting hammered quickly.

Bored, Karl looked around for someone to talk to. He hadn’t been coming to The Pulley long, nor was he a regular. He figured there were cliques, as is so often the case, and as more leathermen entered the bar, Karl would mentally slot them into their “place.” He was right about 80% of the time, helped tremendously by the hanky code.

Fister. Bondage boy. Piss Top. Fistee. Anything goes.

“Is someone using this stool?”

Karl blinked and took his eyes off the door. A boy several years shy of Karl’s age of thirty-five was looking at him. Karl quickly glanced him up and down, noticing he was wearing a rubber tank top and shorts, with a pair of 10-hole Doc Martens on his feet.

“Oh! No, be my guest,” Karl replied, smiling.

The kid flashed a brief smile. “Thanks.”

“Sure. I’m—“ Karl began, but the boy had already taken the stool over to another table where a group of guys in varying amounts of kinky dress were already sitting.

“—Karl,” he finished in a whisper. He went back to watching the door.

It must have only been five or ten minutes when Steve walked in. Karl sucked in his breath and involuntarily sat bolt upright. He averted his eyes just as the man looked in his direction, afraid to be caught staring.

But how could he not stare? Steve was in his familiar leather cop uniform, his boots polished to a parade gloss and not a hair out of place anywhere. Karl knew that under his peaked cap Steve wore a high-n-tight, making him look younger than his actual age, which Karl guessed to be around forty-five, maybe even fifty.

Karl admired the way Steve’s breeches hugged his crotch perfectly and how his gloves added that extra air of authority Karl loved in a guy. Steve’s badge caught the light and flashed as he made his rounds greeting guys he knew and hugging them or clapping them on the back. From a distance the badge looked pretty authentic, and Karl wondered if it were real. Either way, he felt somehow safer just knowing Steve was in the bar. Even if his uniform was only a costume, the way he wore it made it feel like there was an actual cop there.

Karl noticed his leg was twitching. Ugh—why was he so nervous? He felt like a real shit for staring at Steve so much without having the balls to just go talk to the guy. Probably not interested anyway. He probably—

“Shut up,” Karl growled under his breath, willing the negative voice in his head to be silent. Gathering up every last bit of courage he had, he placed a cocktail napkin on top of his beer bottle and went up to the bar.

“Another beer?” the bartender asked. It was now or never. Karl held up two fingers, and then pointed out Steve while his back was turned.

The bartender opened a beer for Karl, in its familiar brown bottle, then another green bottle. Great, probably some expensive import, he thought as he cringed at what his tab would be.

Picking up both bottles, Karl shakily made his way over to where Steve stood, just as the man he’d been talking to wandered away.

“Beer, Sir?” he asked, a nervous smile glued to his face.

Steve gave him the once over, then reached for the bottle.

“Thank you, boy,” he said, reaching for the green bottle that Karl offered. As he lifted it for a swig, Karl noticed it was ginger ale. Shit.

“Best beer I’ve had all week,” Steve continued, a smile crossing his face. “I’m Steve.”

“Karl,” Karl replied, reaching for Steve’s outstretched gloved hand. His handshake was warm and firm.

“I think I’ve seen you around here once or twice before. New in town?” Steve asked.

“Uh, no, not really,” Karl replied. It was a pretty small town, and Karl was sure that everyone else in the bar knew each other. He suddenly felt like an outsider. Despite having been involved with BDSM since the young age of 16, he had never much enjoyed the bar scene, and only recently decided to give it another try.

Steve was waiting for him to say something else, but he didn’t know what to add. Probably best to change the subject.

“I like your uniform a lot. Your badge…” he trailed off.

Steve laughed. “Everyone wants to know if it’s real. The answer is yes and no. It’s a real police badge, but I’m not a cop. Well, not in the true sense of the word.”

Karl was confused. He wanted to ask what Steve meant about being a quasi-police officer, but of course the question he asked was different.

“I thought it was illegal to own a badge if you weren’t a cop,” Karl said.

“Well it’s like this. There was some… trouble… around here. Not here in the bar, but in the neighborhood. The money for police is stretched pretty thin, and there aren’t really enough officers to patrol at all hours. The chief happens to be a friend of mine, and I asked if I could help out. He made me an honorary officer. So I have a badge, but I can’t make arrests or carry a gun or anything like that.”

“So it’s more like observe and report?” Karl asked.

“Yes, pup. That’s exactly right.” Steve smiled again. Karl couldn’t help but smile back. The leather cop had obviously noticed the pawprint tattoos on his chest.

“I’m not drinking any alcohol tonight because I go on patrol later. Would you like to come?”

Karl couldn’t believe he’d heard right.

“Me?” he asked.

Steve nodded and smiled. “You. You never know when having a K-9 unit will come in handy.”

Karl nearly melted. Being a police dog was one of his all-time biggest fantasies. And now the man whom he’d been infatuated with was offering him the chance to live out his dream.

“I’d love to! I mean, yes! Great!” Karl said, excitement and puppy exuberance bubbling up within him.

“Easy, boy,” Steve said. “Calm down. And put that beer down. The number one rule is no alcohol at all on patrol nights. I’ll make an exception for you this time, but switch to water.”

This time, Karl thought. I’ll make an exception for you this time. Does that mean there will be a next time?

Whoa, cool it. You just met the guy. Still don’t even know if he’s single. Better play it safe.

Karl set down his beer and returned to the bartender to get a glass of water and close his tab. When he went back to find Steve, he was already talking to someone else. Karl stayed a few feet away, unsure of whether to interrupt or just wait for Steve to come find him when he was ready to go.

Fuck it. I’m going for it. He walked up next to Steve, who reached up a gloved hand and scratched him behind the ears as he carried on his conversation. Karl closed his eyes. Oh. God.

Steve had put Karl totally at ease. He introduced him to the man he’d been talking to, a handsome Dom named Joe who apparently had a long history with Steve.

“…taught me everything I know,” Steve was saying. He and Joe exchanged smiles, and Karl felt himself grin.

“It’s a pleasure, Sir,” Karl said, bowing his head slightly.

“Set to go out on patrol?” Steve asked. Already? Karl wondered. But he was more than eager.

“Sir, yes, Sir!”

Steve made his goodbyes and they left.

Karl followed Steve out to the parking lot, admiring the way his patrol boots caught the street lights.

“You’d better ride shotgun,” Steve said. “How tall are you, pup?”

“Six-two,” Karl answered. Steve looked pretty tall himself, but Karl had an inch or two on him.

“Damn. Big pup.” Steve said. Karl cringed a little inside. He didn’t know if that was good, bad, or indifferent. But Steve was letting him tag along on patrol, so must not be that bad, Karl reasoned.

They started out, cruising the streets a few notches slower than the speed limit.

“You keep your eyes peeled, pup. Bark if you see anything that looks suspicious.”

“Yes, Sir.” Karl’s head was filled with questions, but his sense of duty overrode his innate curiosity and need for information. He carefully scanned the side of the road, looking for anything that seemed out of place. They passed block after block, with nothing.

“It seems quiet,” Karl said, looking over at Steve as they came to a stop at a red light. Part of him wished he didn’t have to look out the window. He could admire Steve’s leathers all night. But he was experiencing the fantasy he’d held for so long, and didn’t want to jeopardize that.

“It’s early yet. Keep watching,” Steve said as the light turned green and they continued.

Block after block passed with nothing, and then something caught Karl’s eye.

“Did you see that?” he asked.

“See what? Where, pup?”

“About a half a block back. Looked like a sharps container on the sidewalk,” Karl said.

Steve made a u-turn and drove back, parking on the other side of the street. He reached over and opened the glove box, pulling out a pair of binoculars.

“That’s what it is, all right! I don’t know how you saw that, but I’m glad you did. There is a drug ring in this town that uses needle containers to make their drops. I bet someone will be along soon to pick it up.”

Steve reached for a microphone on his console. He hit a switch and began speaking into it.

“Unit 9 to dispatch.”

The radio spat and cackled, and finally a voice came back on the other end.

“Dispatch.”

“We’ve got a sharps box on Grove Street between 9th and 10th. Looks an awful lot like the ones we’ve been finding lately.”

“Copy, backup on its way.”

Steve set the radio down.

“Now what?” Karl asked.

“Just watch, pup.”

Karl and Steve both watched. Karl was suddenly slightly afraid, but he knew Steve would protect him if anything bad happened. And I’d protect him, he thought automatically. He felt a pang in his chest, but decided to file the thought away for later.

Another car pulled up behind them. Karl glanced briefly in the rear-view mirror and saw a uniformed cop inside, though the vehicle was unmarked.

Minutes passed. Then more minutes. Normally if he were having a pup play session he would be restless and fidgety with this much suspense and inaction, but this was totally different. For the first time, he felt like being a pup meant something more than just barking and wagging his tail.

Finally, a flash of movement caught his eye. Without thinking, Karl let out a low growl.

“Shhhh, what is it boy?” Steve asked. Karl indicated the spot where he’d seen the shadowy movement and let out a soft bark.

“I see it too, pup. OK, stay close and don’t move or talk.”

If Steve had said that at the bar, Karl would be nuzzling one of his armpits right now, learning his scent and giving him his best puppy attention. But now he was content to just stay behind the leather cop and watch.

There wasn’t much to see or do in the area on a Saturday night. It was largely industrial, so any pedestrian would seem odd. The one who approached the spot where the medical waste box sat looked especially out of place.

He reached down and picked up the box. Why isn’t the cop moving? Karl wondered. Just then, he saw the officer cross in front of Steve’s car. He had stealthily extracted himself from the vehicle, and was now making his way across the street, his gun drawn.

“Police! Freeze!” Karl heard him yell. From either side two more officers approached. The suspect was quickly apprehended. Karl let out his breath, which he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“The first one is always the most exciting, pup. It gets easier as time goes on. You did great. I’m very proud of you,” Steve said. Karl’s chest swelled and his heart nearly burst as happiness and pride washed over him.

“Hey Steve, great work!” one of the officers said, coming over to Steve’s car. He got out and shook the cop’s hand. Karl stayed where he was.

“How’d you find this one? I could barely see it when I pulled up behind you.”

“Well, truth is, I didn’t find it. I have some help tonight.”

“Oh?” the cop asked. Steve motioned Karl out. Timidly he got out of the car, nervous for still being in the same clothes he wore to the leather bar earlier.

“Karl, this is Officer Johansen. Marty, this is Karl. He’s a… helper I brought along.”

Karl’s mind raced again as he shook the cop’s hand. A helper? I just “helped” bag somebody who could be the key to unraveling an entire drug trafficking ring and I’m a helper? Karl knew he was being silly, but he was having trouble chasing away his demons in Steve’s presence.

“I think we’ve earned a little break, pup,” Steve said as Officer Johansen walked away. “Feel like a cup of coffee? I know a place.”

Karl nodded and got back in Steve’s car. The all-night coffee bar was a couple miles away, and fairly busy. Karl was kicking himself for not bringing a shirt. But he hadn’t planned on wearing his bar vest and boots outside The Pulley.

As if he’d telegraphed this very thought to Steve, the leather cop said, “I wear my leather whenever I am not at work. Most people know me as part of the volunteer PD. Our community needs that. They need to feel there’s someone they can trust who is on their side, one who understands them.”

Karl nodded, speechless. The more he got to know Steve, the more amazed he was.

“Go find us a table, pup.” Karl scampered off and found a booth, then waited while Steve ordered coffee.

Karl found himself staring again as Steve sat down. “Do I have something on my uniform?” the leather cop asked, looking for stains.

Karl shook his head. “No, Sir. I just can’t help it. You must be used to guys staring, though?”

Steve smiled. “Not as many as you’d think. Some stare, some look away. Some probably don’t even notice. You notice because it’s what you’re into, and you understand what the uniform means.”

“Actually, until you explained it to me, I thought it was just for show,” Karl said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he quickly amended.

“Well it used to be that it was just for show. I enjoyed the uniform for the uniform’s sake. But then I found out about the volunteer force, and I thought how cool it would be if the uniform had more of a purpose beyond just getting me off. Know what I mean?”

“Actually…” Karl thought of his own revelation earlier, about being a pup with a purpose beyond just being cute and doing tricks. Steve cocked an eyebrow.

“Actually I do,” Karl said. “I was thinking the same thing when we were patrolling, except—“

“—except you weren’t wearing your pup gear,” Steve interjected.

“Yes, exactly!” Karl said, practically jumping out of his seat.

“Easy, boy,” Steve said. Karl could feel one of Steve’s booted feet kicking his legs apart, then pressing into his crotch. Karl wrapped a hand around the toe, holding it and feeling the glossy boot leather.

“That’s better,” Steve said, dropping his voice a full register. Both men smiled at each other.

They sat and sipped coffee for about fifteen minutes. Steve told Karl about his suburban hardware store, and Karl told Steve about his office job and his photography hobby.

“Time to get back on the road. You ready?” Steve asked.

Karl was sorry to lose Steve’s boot between his legs, but was more than eager to have more cop/pup time.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. There were a couple of drunk drivers, and Steve gave rides to a couple of guys from The Pulley who were in no condition to get home on their own. Finally, it was 3am.

“Well, pup, time for me to be heading home. I’m glad you could join me tonight,” Steve said.

“I am too, Sir. It was an experience I will never forget. I think, I um… well…” Karl looked at the floor.

“What is it, pup?” Steve asked, reaching up a gloved hand and scratching Karl behind the ear again.

“Oooohhh,” the pup moaned. “I’dreallylovetogooutonpatrolwithyouagainSir,” he said, the words coming out in a rush before he lost his nerve.

“OK, pup. Same time next Saturday. You meet me at The Pulley and we’ll go out patrolling again. I could use a K-9 unit.”

Karl looked over at Steve, his smile stretching ear to ear. Steve smiled back, and then pulled Karl’s face to his. Their lips met and parted, and they enjoyed a long kiss. Karl could feel himself getting hard, and Steve soon grabbed the pup’s crotch, squeezing as they embraced.

Finally Steve broke the kiss. Karl was nearly breathless.

“Where can I drop you?” the leather cop asked. Karl gave him directions to his apartment, and Steve drove them there, stopping in front of the building.

“Thank you for everything, Sir,” Karl said, preparing to get out. Steve rubbed a gloved hand over the pup’s short hair, then got out and went around to give the pup a proper goodbye. They embraced again, and this time Karl wrapped his arms around Steve, nuzzling the man’s neck.

“Be a good pup,” Steve said as they parted, swatting Karl on the butt. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”

“Yes, Sir!” Karl said, bounding up his front steps and waving to Steve as he drove off. He waited until his car was out of sight before entering his apartment building.

Karl was exhilarated. He’d had what was maybe the best night of his life, and though he was tired he didn’t want it to end. Still, Steve was gone, and so he trudged up the stairs softly as he could to his apartment, being careful not to wake his neighbors.

Karl locked the door behind him, then went to his bedroom to get undressed. He hung up his vest, then sat on the bed to unlace his boots. With his feet free, he stood and unbuckled his belt, shucking his pants. He pulled out his wallet and cell phone and set them on his dresser. As he folded the pants over his arm, a slip of paper fell to the floor.

Officer Steve 825-555-1430
Call anytime, pup

Karl’s heart did jumping jacks. Was Steve as interested in him as he was in Steve? Haven’t established whether he’s single or not. Whoa, pup—time to get a grip!

Should he or shouldn’t he? Karl was so tempted, but it was so late and Steve was probably still driving. He’d better not. Karl tucked the piece of paper into his wallet, then crawled into bed and slept the soundest sleep he’d had in a long time.

* * * * *

“Steve Walker,” the voice at the other end said.

“Hey Steve, it’s Karl,” the pup said, nervous. He hoped it didn’t come through over the phone.

There was a moment of silence, then: “Oh! Pup! I was wondering if I was going to hear from you.”

Karl bit his lip. “I thought of calling right after I found the piece of paper you left, but it was really late, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“So you waited four days?” Steve said. The smile in his voice was evident.

“Sorry, Sir. It’s been a crazy week. But I’ve been thinking of you.”

“Actually I have been thinking of you, too, boy,” Steve said. “We didn’t have too much time to get to know each other on Saturday. I don’t have patrol tonight. Do you want to meet for dinner?”

A chill of excitement ran down Karl’s spine. He looked at his watch—it was already four o’clock. “Yes! Definitely. When?”

“Sooner the better, pup. I’ll pick you up in one hour.”

Karl readily agreed and threw himself in the shower. He debated on what to wear, finally deciding on a plain white T, a tight pair of jeans, wide leather belt, and the same boots from the previous weekend. He was excited and anxious, and spent the remaining twenty minutes pacing until finally the intercom buzzed.

Karl scrambled down the stairs and threw open the front door. Steve looked incredible in a silk shirt, tight leather jeans, and boots. Pup that he was, Karl couldn’t resist taking a few whiffs as they hugged, taking in Steve’s masculine scent. Karl found himself getting hard again, and as his crotch pressed against Steve’s he discovered that his date was boned, too.

“Let’s get going before we cream our pants,” Steve suggested. Karl smiled and followed him out to his car.

Steve took Karl to an understated Italian restaurant. It was very homey and quiet, and the food was excellent.

“So, I have to ask,” Steve said as he swirled his spoon in his minestrone soup. “Are you single?”

Karl looked at Steve and realized his date was tense, as if he didn’t really want to know the answer. He had to be careful not to let his jaw hit the floor—Steve had been wondering the same thing he had since they met!

“Yes,” Karl whispered. “Are you?”

An apprehensive moment passed. Steve nodded.

“I admit I’m surprised,” Karl said. “Shocked actually. You could have your pick of boys in that bar.”

“Sometimes the pick of bar boys isn’t what you want or need,” Steve said quietly. “My life is pretty full. I own my own business, and I am a quasi-police officer on the side. Trying to fit someone into that is difficult.”

“I can imagine,” Karl said.

For a while, neither man said anything. Then Steve spoke.

“Doing the patrol by myself is lonely. I liked having you with me, and I’m looking forward to doing it again this weekend. If it goes well, maybe you’d consider doing it with me more often?”

“I would really like that, Sir,” Karl said. He felt Steve’s boots cover his. A subtle show of dominance, but one that Karl understood very well.

“Good boy.”

The conversation shifted into other areas, talking about everyday life: travels they’d done, and music, art, history, literature, movies… anything. It was an easy conversation, and a great meal.

“I think the staff would like us to leave,” Steve said, glancing around the room. The restaurant was deserted, and the bus boy had started stacking chairs in preparation to vacuum.

“I’ll get it,” Karl said, reaching for the check.

“No, this one’s mine. You bought me the ‘beer’ remember?”

Karl smiled at the thought of the beer-cum-ginger ale from the previous weekend. “Yes, but you already bought coffee,” he pointed out.

“Actually, the coffee was free. They like leather cops there,” Steve said.

Karl relinquished his hand on the check. “You win.”

“I always get what I want,” Steve said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Karl let himself feel a nugget of hope. Maybe this time I will get what I want, too.

* * * * *

Saturday finally came around, and Karl was on pins and needles. He decided to wear leather shorts, along with a sleeveless shirt and his 14i steelcap boots. He made his way to the bar at the same time, and waited for Steve to show up.

Steve was much earlier than before. He’s eager to see me! Oh, get over yourself. He’s just here because… well….

Actually Karl couldn’t think of any other reason why Steve would be so early. And sure enough, Steve made a beeline for him.

“Hey there pup,” the leather cop said, pulling Karl in for a kiss. Karl was glad that Steve didn’t mind some PDA, but he could feel people staring.

“Hi, Sir,” he panted as Steve pulled away.

Steve made his usual rounds, but this time he kept the pup close, usually with a hand on his butt or lazily scratching or rubbing his head.

Karl lost track of time. Before he knew it, Steve was steering him toward the door. “Patrol time, pup. Let’s roll.”

There was a lot more activity that night. Not much crime, just some safety code violations and helping out people who needed it.

Near the end of the shift, they came across a man who had some car trouble. While Steve was bent over the busted radiator, Karl picked up the sound of a dog howling in distress.

“Officer Steve, do you hear that?” Karl asked. Steve looked up and shook his head.

“I need to go find it. It sounds like it’s in a lot of pain.”

“Stay where you are,” Steve said. “It’s too dangerous for you to be out on your own.”

Karl was stuck. He didn’t want to argue with Steve, and he didn’t want to disobey the leather cop, either. But the animal was so plaintive and the howling so mournful that finally he couldn’t help it and walked away, cocking his ear to find the source of the caterwauling.

It was only a couple of blocks. A dog had been wandering around and stepped on some broken glass. Karl could see a trail of blood leading back to the shattered bottle that caused it. The dog didn’t have a collar, and was in no condition to walk, so Karl picked him up. He weighed about twenty-five pounds, and was some kind of a beagle mix.

“Pup? Karl?” he heard from afar, and hustled back to Steve’s side. The motorist had long driven off.

“Oh thank god,” he said as Karl approached carrying the dog. “Don’t ever do that to me again! Do you know what could have happened?”

“But he’s hurt!” Karl protested, thrusting the injured dog toward Steve and turning up the maimed paw. “He needs help.”

“This is no time of night for any dog to be out on his own, human or canine. You understand me, pup?”

“Yes, Sir,” Karl said. Well you blew it. Third date and you’ve already let him down. He’s probably already thinking how quickly he can get you out of his hair.

“I’m really sorry, Sir.” Karl gulped hard and fought to keep his chin up, but couldn’t. The beagle looked at him and licked his face, as if to reassure him, but Karl didn’t feel very reassured. Without a word, Steve turned and went back to his car, getting in on the driver’s side.

Maybe he’ll just leave your ass here. You already disobeyed, and now you’ve shouldered him with this burden he doesn’t need. Start walking home.

Karl expected the car to come to life and drive away, but then he saw Steve’s booted leg plant itself on the pavement again. Soon the leather cop was approaching him, holding some kind of device that looked like a Taser.

Steve raised his arm and for a wild second Karl thought he was going to get the shock of his life. But then Steve waved it over the dog’s neck, and a screen came to life, showing a name and address. The dog was microchipped.

Steve contacted the dog’s owners, who were more than grateful to have their pet back, and took him straight to the emergency ER.

As they left, Karl dropped to his knees, placed his hands behind his back, and bowed his head.

“Sir?” he said. He could see Steve’s boots approach him. He took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I disobeyed you, Sir. I was caught—it was a horrible dilemma for me. I just want you to know I don’t normally do that. I’m a good boy, a good pup usually and ordinarily I would never—“

Steve reached a booted foot behind Karl and brought his face down to his other boot. Karl splayed his hands to steady himself and pressed his lips into Steve’s proffered boot.

“Pup, you did what you had to. You have a strong sense of right and wrong. The fact that I am a Dom does not always make me right. The fact that I am a cop, more or less, does not make me right. I’m human and I make mistakes. Having said that, you did disobey, and disobedient pups need a lesson, don’t you think?”

“Woof,” Karl said as he lapped at the leather.

Steve withdrew his boot. “Up, pup.”

Karl stood. Steve placed a gloved hand on Karl’s neck, rubbing the spot where his boot had been, and pulled him close, their foreheads touching.

“Stay with me tonight, Karl.” Steve said. It was neither an order nor a question. Karl nodded, his head causing Steve’s to bob in agreement in time.

* * * * *

Steve’s house was modest, but it was lived-in. Karl felt totally at ease. With their patrol shift done, Steve offered the pup a drink. Karl shook his head. Steve grabbed a beer and sat down in his favorite chair, holding his legs open. Karl didn’t need more of an invitation. He knelt in front of the leather cop and pressed his nose against his crotch, inhaling deeply. Karl gave a couple licks and looked tentatively up at Steve for permission.

“Go ahead, pup.”

Karl peeled his lips back and grabbed the zipper with his teeth, tugging gently until it slid all the way down. He could see that Steve wore a leather jock underneath, and he nuzzled and sniffed and licked at the bulging codpiece. Steve moaned and placed a hand on top of Karl’s head, running his leathered thumb back and forth through the pup’s stubble.

“Yeah, pup, that’s it. Get a good whiff… drink it all in.”

Karl breathed deep. The scent was strong and manly, that uniquely male scent of sweat, piss, and cum that drove the pup wild. And Steve was giving it to him in spades. His tongue lapped at the jock, tracing the outline of Steve’s rapidly hardening cock. Steve finally unsnapped his codpiece, then laid his hand on the back of Karl’s head and pushed.

Taking his cue, Karl scooted forward and lapped at Steve’s balls, teasing the leather cop but also giving him his best. Karl felt the man deserved nothing less.

“Good pup,” Steve growled as Karl licked and slurped and sucked. “Puppy want a bone? Huh?”

“Wruff,” Karl barked, his mouth full.

“Get my bone, pup. Yeah, get that hard leather cop bone.”

Karl devoured Steve’s cock, gagging a little as he tried to take it all at once. Finally he adjusted and began bobbing up and down, giving Steve the attention he needed.

Steve drank his beer and gave the pup encouragement. It had been a long time since he’d had such an eager pup between his legs, especially one that might… well, better not to think of that just yet.

Karl continued slurping, his whole world consumed by Steve’s manmeat. He could have stayed there all night, but could sense that Steve was ready to blow. Sure enough, the leather cop came hard, filling Karl’s mouth as he desperately tried to swallow it all. Eventually a little bit dribbled out, but Steve caught it and placed his gloved fingers in the pup’s mouth. Karl greedily swallowed it all, then suctioned up the excess from Steve’s cock, finally nuzzling into the fold of skin between his balls and his thigh. He sighed contentedly as Steve petted him.

“You make a good pup, you know that?” Steve said.

“Woof,” Karl said, smiling. He was sure Steve could feel his lips move into a grin against his skin.

“I’m going to finish this, then I’m ready for bed,” Steve said, holding up his nearly empty bottle of beer, not that Karl could see. But Karl nodded, figuring Steve would tell him when it was time to hit the hay.

At last Steve tapped Karl’s thigh with a booted foot, indicating he should move. Karl pulled back and Steve stood, stripping out of his leather.

Karl admired the man’s body. He was toned and fit, with just the slightest hint of a belly. It turned Karl on incredibly, and he had to try hard to keep himself from drooling on Steve’s carpet.

Following Steve’s lead, Karl stood and unlaced his boots, stepping out of them. He shucked his shorts and unzipped his shirt, pulling them off. He folded everything neatly and followed Steve to his bedroom, pausing at the door.

“Guest room is down the hall,” Steve said as he made his way to the master bath.

Should have known you weren’t going to get to sleep with him. Should just go home—no point in staying. Unless….

Karl was still fighting his mental battle, trying to turn off the tape recorder, when Steve came back from brushing his teeth.

“…or did you want to stay in here?” he asked, giving Karl a sideways glance. Karl nodded.

Steve didn’t indicate whether that was good or bad, but pulled back the covers and patted the side next to him. Karl set down his clothes and boots and crawled in, curling up against Steve.

“Thank you, Sir,” he said.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be comfortable with me,” Steve confessed. “We’ve only known each other a week.”

“Yeah, but what a week it’s been. I trust you,” Karl said, stifling a yawn.

“Atta boy,” Steve replied.

“Sir?” Karl asked.

“Yes, pup?”

“Will you keep your gloves on? I like the way they look on you, and how they feel on my skin.”

Steve smiled and got up to get the gloves, skinning them on as he climbed back in. He petted Karl’s chest.

“Better?”

“All better, Sir.”

Karl laid his head on Steve’s shoulder and fell asleep. Steve turned the light off and cuddled with the pup, but sleep eluded him. A thousand thoughts raced through his head. Finally he, too, found slumber.

* * * * *

The weeks passed, and summer turned to autumn. The leaves changed and dropped, and the anticipation of Christmas was growing. At The Pulley, more and more gear was being worn to guard against the cooler temperatures.

Karl had never been much of a Christmas person, but he wanted to give Steve something special. He had a new leather cap custom ordered, the kind that beat cops wear on foot patrols. He loved the biker cap that Steve usually wore with his uniform, but he couldn’t think of what else to get a leather cop.

Steve was much more elaborate with his holiday plans. He’d grown quite fond of the pup, and enjoyed their patrols and Karl’s company immensely. He found himself thinking of the boy whenever he had an idle moment, and had even caught himself thinking of Karl as “his boy” or “his pup” on more than a couple occasions.

Steve had a lot of connections in the city, especially in the gay neighborhood that he was assigned to patrol. If he ever needed a doctor or lawyer or accountant or plumber, he had ten numbers stashed in his phone of folks who would be all too eager to help him. But there was only one man who could do for him what he needed to make his Christmas with Karl special.

On a dreary November Sunday, and with Karl dozing off the previous night’s beat in his bed, Steve made his call.

“Anthony,” he said as the man picked up. “It’s Steve. Listen, there’s something I need you to do, and I need it pretty quick….”

Anthony was an old friend of Steve’s. They had gone to high school together, and never lost touch even after Anthony joined the Army as a medic and Steve went into business for himself. When Anthony got out of the service he decided to go to veterinary school, having determined that working with animals was preferable to working with humans. He’d returned and set up his practice, and although he never shared Steve’s fondness for BDSM and leather, the two remained very close.

“I dunno, Steve. I’m kind of busy this weekend. Mike’s family is in town, and he’s even bitchier than usual,” Anthony said after listening to Steve’s request, referring to his partner of several years.

“All the more reason to get out of the house. Listen, you know I wouldn’t ask this of you normally, but I’m in a real tight bind here. And Karl is different.”

“Oh my god, he’s in love!” Anthony crowed. “I knew it! I knew when you blew me off for our monthly lunch last week that you were seeing someone. How long has it been?”

“Long enough, and let’s not call it love. At least not yet. But maybe….”

“Call it what you want, but I know you, Steve Walker. You are on cloud nine.” Fuck, he was relentless.

“So will you do it?” Steve persisted.

“Yes, all right, fine. Give me an hour.”

* * * * *

Steve wouldn’t tell Karl where he was taking him, only that they had to leave right away. Karl was still sleepy and pleaded until Steve let him take a shower.

“But be quick.”

Soon enough they were on the road across town to Anthony’s clinic. Steve was in his full leather cop uniform, and Karl wore leather trousers and a plain leather shirt—the same outfit he’d worn on duty the night before.

As they pulled up to the clinic, Karl could not imagine what they were doing at a vet’s office, especially on a Sunday.

Steve led him inside and then called out to his friend.

“Back here! Come on through, Steve.”

Steve placed a hand on Karl’s shoulder and guided him to Anthony’s surgery.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Marcus. But as you know Steve, you can call me Anthony.” Karl shook the man’s hand.

Steve motioned for Karl to strip. He wasn’t at all sure about getting naked in front of someone he just met, not even a doctor, but he trusted Steve above all else, and shucked his leathers without much hesitation, folding them carefully.

“Just hop up on the exam table when you’re ready,” Anthony said, filling a syringe. “Steve, I’m going to need you to fill out that paperwork on the bench.”

Steve crossed over to the lab bench and picked up a clipboard and pen. Karl was getting scared. He wanted to ask what was going on, or what they thought they were doing, but he still remembered the night he’d disobeyed a direct order from Steve and didn’t want to cause him embarrassment again. And the trust was there, so he stayed silent.

As Anthony moved about the operating room and Steve’s pen scratched at the clipboard, Karl realized that the soundtrack of negativity in his head had stopped. It took a while to trust Steve so completely, but once he had he never doubted himself or the leather cop again. He was grooving on this thought as both men approached him.

“I’m going to go encode the microchip,” Anthony said, taking the clipboard from Steve and leaving the room.

“Pup, if any of this makes you uncomfortable tell me now and we’ll leave,” Steve said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, but I wanted it to be a surprise. And if I’m right about you, you’ve been wanting this for some time.”

“I want to be chipped, Sir,” Karl said. “But what does that mean for us? Does it mean I’m your pup?”

“Yes, boy. It means you’re my pup.”

Tears filled Karl’s eyes, but he fought them back mightily. Steve offered a gloved hand, and Karl licked at it until Anthony returned.

“OK, Rocket. This microchip needle is big, so it might be pretty hurty. But I’ll be as gentle as I can,” Anthony said.

Karl looked up at Steve, who smiled. “Face forward, Rocket.”

Rocket… great name for a pup. My name. The name my Owner gave me.

The pup turned his head. “On one, two…” and then Anthony injected the chip. Rocket wanted to howl, but held back. Steve offered him a chew toy, which he bit down on as the pain seared into his neck. At last the needle withdrew.

“I’m sorry that hurt, Rocket,” Anthony said. “I’m afraid the next one will be even worse. It’s a rabies vaccine. It goes in your hip.”

Rocket let out a soft whimper, and Steve came to stand in front of him. He took the chew toy and brought his pup’s face into his crotch. He knew this had a calming effect on him, and sure enough he could feel Rocket relax as he breathed in his Master’s scent.

“Just hold still,” Anthony said as he inserted the syringe. Rocket yelped but did not move. Steve pressed his pup’s nose further into his crotch.

It felt like the searing pain went on forever. Like the whole left side of his body was on fire. Like he’d been dropped in a vat of acid. Like—

And then it was done. Rocket was breathing hard, but Steve petted him, murmuring, “Good boy. Good pup, Rocket. I’m proud of you.”

Anthony left and soon returned with a set of tags. “Lucky you use the only vet in town authorized by the city to print licenses and rabies tags!” Steve produced a leather collar and fastened the tags to a ring on the front.

“Up, pup.” Rocket sat up.

Steve placed the collar around the pup’s neck, buckling it closed and placing a padlock through the closure, locking it.

“Atta boy, Rocket. Look at you, all official now.” Steve pulled out the remote microchip reader and waved it over Rocket’s neck. He held the screen up so Rocket could see:

PUP ROCKET
PROPERTY OF
OFFICER STEVE WALKER
342 10TH AVENUE
WESTMINSTER 57704
825-555-1430

The dam burst, and Rocket was in tears. Steve pulled him close, and waved Anthony off. The vet quickly left the room so the two men could have their privacy.

“I’ve never known you to cry before,” Steve said. “What’s wrong?”

I only cry in front of men I love, Rocket wanted to say. But he couldn’t find any words, and just sobbed as his Master held him. It took about ten minutes, but he finally calmed down to where he could speak.

“I’m just overwhelmed, Sir,” Rocket said as he struggled to catch his breath. “I’m so proud, and so happy. I’m the luckiest boy. The luckiest pup.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” Steve said, kissing away Rocket’s tears.

“Uh, I’m really sorry,” Anthony said as he re-entered the surgery. “I have to go home. Mike is going down in flames, and I need to rescue him. Sorry.”

It was an uncomfortable moment, but Rocket shakily got dressed. Steve snapped a leash to his new collar and let him out, then drove him back to his house.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, alternatively napping and making love. Steve had yet to fuck his pup, but knew that this was the right time. Wearing just his gloves and boots, Steve maneuvered Rocket underneath him and reached for a condom and lube. He dropped them on Rocket’s stomach, and the pup quickly slid the latex over his Master’s cock and then applied lube to his hard mast.

Steve took the bottle from his pup and squirted a generous amount on Rocket’s hole. He finger-fucked him to loosen him, and then pressed his cock home.

Rocket howled as he felt his Master enter him, and panted deliriously as Steve pistoned his butt, ramming his pole home over and over.

As he lay there gasping, Rocket couldn’t imagine how life could get any more perfect. He had a handsome and caring Master, a purposeful pup life, a rewarding career, and a great outlook.

But as Steve came in his pup’s ass for the first time, the leather cop knew without a doubt he was ready to give Rocket what he really needed.

* * * * *

Christmas Eve finally arrived. Steve announced they were starting their patrol early, and so picked up Rocket at his apartment and brought him to his place for dinner. Rocket would have much rather spent the day curled up in his Master’s arms, but understood that they had a duty.

Rocket set to work in the kitchen, reheating a hearty stew he’d made the night before in a slow cooker. The weather had turned chilly, and he figured they’d need their strength if they were going to be out on the road for six or seven hours.

Rocket served up the stew, setting a bowl in front of his Master and then ladling one for himself. He was feeling especially puplike that night, and wondered what Steve would think if he set the bowl on the floor and shoved his whole face in, but if he made a mess he knew he would lose valuable time cleaning it up. So he sat and ate with Steve, neither saying much, both just enjoying each other’s company.

When dinner was finished, Rocket cleared the table and washed the dishes, setting them on the rack to dry and returning to the dining room to nuzzle his leather cop’s crotch. He was rewarded with ear scratches and affectionate petting from Steve, which always made his heart flutter and his cock stir.

“Almost time to go,” Steve said. Rocket rose and reached for his leather jacket. Steve’s gloved hand covering his stopped him.

“Actually, I have something else for you to wear.”

Rocket waited, perplexed, while Steve went to his bedroom and retrieved a large box, all wrapped up with a bow on it.

“Read the card first,” Steve said. Rocket obediently reached for the card that bore his name.

Rocket –

You have proven yourself to be a faithful pet, a loyal lover, and a brave partner. You have earned this.

Love,

Master

“Open it, pup,” Steve said quietly.

Rocket tore into it, letting his full pup tendencies out. He peered into the box, but couldn’t make out what was inside. Tentatively he reached in and pulled out what at first looked like a sleep sack. But it has two legs, Rocket thought. A bondage suit? No, no straps, except on the shins. Totally bemused, he looked to his leather cop for answers.

“It’s a pup suit, boy,” Steve explained. “Let’s get it on you.”

Rocket was stunned beyond words. “Sir, this must have cost a fortune! I can’t accept this.”

“Yes you can, Rocket. You earned it. You have shown all the qualities that a good K-9 unit should have. It’s time you looked the part. Now put your arms in.”

Obediently Rocket slid his arms into the leather sleeves, which ended in fist mitt paws. His hind legs went in next, then Steve zipped it up, leaving the last six inches undone.

“Now for your face,” he said, reaching in the box and pulling out a pup hood. It was incredible. Rocket knew they weren’t cheap.

“This is all too much, Sir. I don’t want you to—“

“One rule, Rocket. When I put this hood on you, no more human speech, understand?” Steve was being stern, which he usually wasn’t unless he really wanted the pup to pay attention.

“Sir, yes, Sir,” Rocket said. Steve pulled the hood over his head and laced it up the back. He then pushed the pup down to his knees and fastened the shin straps, holding his feet up. It was uncomfortable, but Rocket was sure he’d get used to it. His weight rested on the padded knees, which helped.

“Those kneepads are going to get pretty scraped up, so they’re replaceable,” Steve said. “Just try to be careful, all right?”

“Wruff,” Rocket affirmed.

Steve fastened Rocket’s leather collar on him, which he always wore when they were on duty.

“One more thing,” Steve said. Rocket already felt like he was floating three feet off the ground. What more could he want?

“I talked to the mayor about adding you to the force, and he agreed. You’re official now.” Steve held up an elastic armband with a shiny police badge on it. Below it, on a black background with white block letters, it said “K-9 UNIT.”

“Woof! WRUFF!” the pup yelled, so excited he was about to crawl out of his new leather skin.

Steve nudged Rocket’s right arm with his boot. The pup obediently lifted his paw, and Steve slid the badge up his arm.

Steve then left the room, returning a few minutes later wearing a brand-new uniform shirt. The patches on his arms also said K-9.

“Shows we’re a team, pup. You and me.”

Rocket followed Steve over to the full-length mirror in the hall. He stared at their reflection. Steve was right—they did look like a matched pair: a leather cop and his canine partner. He loved his new hood and muzzle, black with brown markings, and the way the pup suit hugged his body but also let him move. He nuzzled his Master’s leg.

“Ready for patrol boy?”

“WRUFF!”

“Then let’s go.”

The end.