Ladadog

LadADog by Wulfstan (c) 2007



Part I: AWarmSurprise

Wouldn't it be great if you could walk into any shop in your town and get what you really wanted? Well, just the thing happened to us the other day when I was just out for kitty treats. Angel loves Pounce. He pounces for Pounce. So we took ourselves to the local pet supply and groomer, "The Old Bone Shop of the Mind," the sign above the door reads. And just as we turned to the block of merchants where Singlebury's store was located we could hear his theme, you guessed it, The Pet Shop Boys, blaring into suburban space, "You were on my mind." We were regular customers there and Singlebury knew when we were in for a claw trim and when we were in to pick up kitty treats.


"Angel," he boamed louder than the soundtrack, "I got exactly what you came for!"

But then he turns to me and with the wink of a slypuss himself, "And I got exactly what you came in for too."

Taken aback at first, I had paused to grasp his meaning. So we stood eye to eye over Angel's carrier and slowly but steadily jerking his head toward the back of the shop and a door marked "Private--KEEP OUT!" the music lowered and I could hear a boyish growl effecting the ruff of a real dog.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," I began to connect Singlebury's dots. "Then he's here?"

"Since early this morning and he's already gone though two bags of Milkbone waiting for your ... but we began to give up hope that you'd remember to come by and pick him up today."

Without even bothering to explain that I had indeed forgotten "but Angel ran out of ..." I continued with Angel's carrier in one hand and an eye toward the boner already bulging in my pants, I reached for the door marked Private without a moment's hesitation.

Luckily nobody else was in the shop but us. I glimpsed him from the door. He was crouched in his dogcage on all fours. A thick studded black leather collar fixed around his thick white neck. And all as naked as the day he was born. "Exceptionally well-hung, he is," Singlebury called out behind us just lowering the shade after affixing his "Out" sign to his front door and he walked in behind me to unlock the cage.

"Lad, his name is Lad. It's the only English he knows. There's the silly running suit they brought him in straight from the airport--he won't be needing that ever again," Singlebury grimaced his disapproval of forcing such lads ever to wear clothing. "I gave them the $25,000--just as you instructed. as soon as he was stripped and settled in his cage. I knew he was exactly what you had specified."


"Exactly," I concurred aloud. "Exactly," repeating for fear of betraying the wavering in my voice that accompanied the acceleration in my heartbeat as I glanced with eager pleasure at the luxurious folds of foreskin draping his flaccid cock. The hindlegs were exceptionally muscular, the rest of him was lean. His front paws were vascular with massive veins descending from his primed biceps. Then more veins wove and meshed their way up and down his foreskin to sculpt the shadows of his massive dick. The balls hung low and bulbous in a velvety scrotum of thick rosy flesh. The seam protruded for visibility even within the shadows of his cage. I imagined fondling those huge, spherical testicles in both hands.(I knew they would be stretched even lower as soon as I took him out of his cage and began training them regularly.) But in his cage, on all fours, glancing eagerly up at my eyes for approval, I knew that Singlebury had found the perfect lad for bondage training and ownership. Lad would come to define master/dog companionship for me as well as for Angel who adored dogs and detested his feline kind.

"You gotta see this," Singlebury insisted as he opened the rear of the cage, cupping the lowhangers gently between his thumb and pointer with one hand and pulling the cock out between the muscular haunches of Lad's hindlegs.

"Now you pull the foreskin all the way back,"

"GRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrr," Lad murmured in a paroxysm of vocal approval.

"Have you ever seen a tip as pink as that!" he exclaimed proudly as I revealed Lad's cock from beneath the thick purple folds of his foreskin. "And it shifts only slightly to a hot pink to give it the effect of a rose colored bulb once he's fully erect and ready to have his gonads worked on."

At that point I looked at him with an apprehensive glance of disapproval as if to ask whether or not he had already hanled Lad's jewels.

"No, no, no. Don't give it a second thought," he assured me as though to read my mind. "I glimplsed his boner after he fell asleep in his cage all curled up with that beauty peeking out from betwen his hind legs."

Then I realized that the foreskin held no trace of smegma. But Singlebury read my mind once more and assured me that Lad was able to suck his cock clean and spent most of the afternoon licking and grooming his balls.

I turned to Lad and, without so much as understanding a word of our exchange, he began to bat his eyelids and lick my hand as if to thank me for retracting his foreskin. Since laddogs were only trained to groom their dicks and testicles with their mouths and tongue, their trainers never allowed to reach for the manhood/doghood with their front paws and encouraged the development of strong neck muscles and sucking reflectors inside their mouths. Ideally, this would keep their doggy gonads well groomed but it would also assure whichever master was blessed with the laddog's ownership of hours of intense sucking pleasure.

He even breathes like a real dog, I thought. As I turned to trace the muscles of his hind legs and back paws despite the fact that my boner was growing ever harder and began to throb as steady as a race horse's in heat.

The coarse jetblack hair that was already peering through his well-shaved scalp indicated the true color of his fur, his eyebrows and pubes, and his ass having all been carefully shaved before he was put on the plane from Roublairia. His oval face, already sprouting a shadowy beard, was a cross between that of the angel that engendered him and the Roman legionaire who sired his peasant ancestors. I knew he'd make me proud of him on our walks in the private park encroaching our condominium. There I'd let him off his lead and allow him to roam freely in the nearby forest and glades with the laddogs whose masters brought them out regularly for exercise with their fellow laddogs.

"They breed them especially for export I hear tell," Singlebury went on to explain. Once their parents realize they can't afford the upkeep and education of a full grown boy, they apply for a certificate allowing for a change of species. Then the boys are trained in special kennels and raisied as pups. I hear the Dutch are willing to introduce legislation that will give the parents freedom to practice breeding the lads legally throughout Eastern Europe. After all they do have a right to choose a career as ladprostitutes, he reasoned--despite the danger to their overall well-being; so why shouldnt they be groomed from childhood as a special breed of laddog? After all, over there most young males are especially well-hung; so once they become impervious to the weather when reared nude, they make excellent pets. Only the Roublairians so far have been able to turn a disadvantage to straight people into a privilege for queers. so they raise them for export. Mostly Russian's purchase them from their hometowns and then they handle them secretively at the border crossings and beneath the eyes of well-bribed customs officials. The French are the most cooperative. And the lads, once they reach the required age of eighteen," he chuckled at that, "they're sold to connoisseurs of the breed much like yourself around the world!"

Then Singlebury gripped Lad by his studded collar to lead him out of the cage and let him crouch between my legs. Angel gazed on in curious wonder.

"He's coming home to play with you, baby," I assured him. Then Angel let out a low meow of approval as Lad began to hump my right leg. I couldn't bear to push him off of me so I pet his aroused nipples and stroked his hairless chest. His milkwhite shoulders were as smooth as alabaster so I knew I'd have to continue training him with special care. Then I let him crouch there rubbing his balls against the top of my foot. Lad's dick grew harder and harder and his tongue kept lurching at my fly.

"Keep him like that for a moment," Singlebury asked, "while I fetch his accessories."

The rubbing of his scrotum and balls against the top of my sandled foot was most pleasant. The balls were warm and full and swayed from side to side, tracing the crevices of my sandal straps, all this exquisite foot massage going on down there while Singlebury assembled the objects on a nearby stand. A chain lead, a retractable lead, a rubber bone with extending belts that could allow the bone to be fixed in Lad's mouth for extended feeding and teething; then there was an ordinary riding crop that could be used to discipline Lad whenever he had accidents on the carpet or just needed to have his haunches smart for a while in order to remind him who was master there; finally, a long, curled, tail of black acrylic that could be easily fixed in Lad's rectum with sufficient lube to give him the appearance of a fully grown dog when out walking with the other lads kept in a similar canine state around our gated residence.

"It'll just feel like he's being deep-fucked once he get's used to it. Now just hold him steady while I lube this up." Singlebury proceeded with the utmost professional care for Lad's comfort. I could tell that he liked the sensation of being penetrated in that crouching position because his eyes were rolling with pleasure as he rested his head between my legs until Singlebury made sure that the acrylic implant was securely positioned in Lad's hole.


"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," he chortled in gratitude. Then Singlebury petted his head while I let him continue to mash his lowhangers against my sandalled foot. He opened his mouth to reveal a thick tongue for the most pleasurable manhole massaging imaginable to his master. His teeth were in perfect condition, the canines and molars especially bright and pointed from all the years of adhering to a strict diet of dry dog food, Singlebury insisted after being assured by Lad's handlers. I knew that that kind of vegetarian diet would be perfect for keeping his skin clear and stools healthy and firm for quick clean up after depositing them in the parklands set aside for this aspect of ladwalking.

Angel meowed with ever louder approval and Lad's smile grew ever brighter until he let out an enormous yelp of pleasure and pain. I assumed his the buttplug end of his doggytail was just beginning to make its presence known deep inside his tight, lubed hole. Then I was distracted at once to feel the gush of a sudden warmth, all pulsating, as wave upon wave of quick jets of warm creamy splooge gushed from Lad's erect cock; then the hot cream began to seep into the spaces between the scrotum, still tightly clamped against the web of leather, and then almost pouring through the weave that separated it from my bare foot. Then, at once, soaking even the sandal base beneath my foot and pouring out into a creamy pool upon Singlebury's cool tile floor.

"The Russian's who transport them take special pride in teaching how to hold their splooge for as long as they can stand it; the laddog who shoots first is flogged, the laddog who takes the longest gets to mount the flogged laddog to relieve his load," Singlebury explained, "I think the bloke was trying to tell me that Lad's gonads were already carrying a three week load with which to impress his new master. Then the well-groomed laddog wil be able to shoot longer than even most humanmales his age. He did specify that you have to mix a special root in his dogbowl, however, if you want his gonads to keep producing it in quantities almost as regularly as amilkcows's udder secretes her liquids," Singlebury went on and on with absolute assurance as he wrote the name of the expensive root for me to purchase in a ground form from the local chemist. "But if it constipates him, you'll have to break down and give Lad a good enema to clean out his doggy hole. I hope you won't mind doing that!"

"Of course, of course, I won't mind." I assured him I'd rear Lad according to the book as to avoid expensive visits to the kind of vet who would understand such a curious domestic arrangement.

By this point my head was reeling with anticipation and I wanted to get Lad ready for the ride home. I wondered if he ever grew cold when kept too long in that natural state but I remembered how Singlebury said their parents tried to raised them mostly nude to prepare them for the rigors of their new life. So I thanked Singlebury profusely for his having lived up to every part of his bargain. Then I gripped Lad's collar to lead him back into his cage. I left Angel and Lad with Singlebury at the back of the dimly lit shop as I walked to transfer my car to the rear of the shopblock. There I knew Singlebury and I could place Lad's cage safely in the back of my SUV. And the tinted windows would assure Lad of the kind of privacy he deserved when being transported to his new home.



Part II: ManandhisDog

Within two weeks, we all became more or less inseparable. At first, I resented having to walk Lad early in the morning. Then even that chore became a kind of ritual. He would gently awaken me from the rug upon which he slept beside my bed. At first, I'd feel a gentle licking on my hand, then he'd concentrate on my dick for a while, sucking in a very rapid, perfunctory rhythm, just to get my first load in the morning. He'd gulp it down all too eager. And when my nuts were fully drained, he'd wash that down with a nice clear stream of piss--always waiting patiently between my legs for the warm liquid to quench his open mouth and flapping tongue. Lad was very careful to lick up any of the drops of golden fluid his master spilled on the bathroom tile. And once he saw that he'd attended to all my needs, he'd run and fetch his collar for me to put it around his neck and take him for a short walk.

The route around that garden compound couldn't have been more private but he already grew accustomed to the occasional onlooker who may have strayed across our path at that hour. A slight rustling in the bushes and then he'd raise his right hind leg carefully so as not to wet his muscular calves. The jets of piss that sprayed out of Lad's massive cock were truly impressive. And however long it took him to relieve himself along the garden walk, I was particularly proud if one of my neighbors happened to pass along the walk by chance to admire how well behaved and obedient Lad was. As a laddog, he took great pains to display himself with pride in the presence of such neighbors because he knew that his deportment there reflected on his master and he wanted to be looked upon as the perfect specimen for any master to own.

If he needed to relieve himself further in those leafy walks and rambles, he always let me know, when in the presence of others, that he'd seek privacy before his puppy tail could be extracted from his hole in order to assure a neat and quick defecation in the outdoors. He'd "aaaaaaarrrgh," once or twice to let me know that he needed to move off to a more secluded area where thick leafy growth would allow him to relax his hole before letting go. I would make my excuses to whomever I happened to be talking with at the time and we would proceed a bit further into the wooded area around the compound. Once there, Lad would proudly raise his tail end for extraction and wait for me to remove the acrylic appendage. It was at such moments that Lad and I began to bond from the outset of our relationship. He lived exclusively for my pleasure and gazed directly at me while relieving himself in order to confirm his need to please me even during the most intimate aspects of his personal hygiene. It was particularly amazing when I first began to observe him at it, however. He would crouch on his hind legs while supporting himself with his front paws in order to effect a prompt and neat deposit only in the area where he was allowed to take such liberties. After all, he knew he would never be allowed to use the toilet at home. (One neighbor who encouraged his laddog to relieve himself in that fashion began to notice all sorts of behavioral problems shortly afterwards.) No, Lad was always and at all times determined to display himself as the perfect laddog. Depositing his well-formed braids of turd there on the ground all steamy hot in the early morning mist; then, he'd look up at me once more for approval. I always carried some doggy treat for him to munch on during the walk back so he knew he was about to be rewarded for being a clean laddog. Then too he was very proud of the fact that with just a few rubs of his doggy hole against a well chosen pile of leaves, he was ready once more to have his acrylic tail reinserted by his very patient master.

I always made a point at such moments of indicating my approval with "Awwwwwwwww, good boy! Good...good...boy!" And then I'd rub my palm against his close shaven scalp before reattaching the lead to his collar and begin our walk home. And since I had already made an appointment with the piercer to have his first pa inserted and his scrotum and frenum well-encrusted with steel, I knew he'd require hours of encouragement to help him cope with the healing. Soon he practice wearing the vinyl ruff that would prevent his licking and infecting his new piercings, so I didn't want to overwhelm Lad with too many strange sensations at the central part of his anatomy.

Upon reentering our little house, Angel would be well up and both of them would have their breakfast together. Their individual bowls were placed side by side but neither ever failed to remember which one belonged to which pet. Besides, Angel's diet was varied with wet and dry food, while Lad never strayed from his usual massive bowls of Purina dogchow twice a day. (They were allowed to drink from the same waterbowl and thereby assure a certain bonding between cat and dog.) At such times, I would almost imagine Lad's tail flapping from side to side on account of the incredible gusto with which he was accustomed to devour every bit of food placed in his bowl. Yet no matter how much he would beg and roll around on the dining room carpet while I would be having my breakfast, I never broke from the regimen that Singlebury cautioned me to observe. The powdered Yohimbe root having been sprinkled carefully with a whole cycle of doggy vitamins necessary for Lad's continued health. And the desired effect of massive and generous amounts of splooge continued to flow from his doggy gonads without fail.

So, we'd pass the mornings, afternoons, and evenings according to pretty much the same idle, quaint schedule. We never tired of the pleasure that the two cagemates began to afford each other while their master looked on beaming with pride. Lad taught Angel tricks; Angel taught Lad tricks. We dwelt in this perfect existence week in and week out with little variation other than an interruption from an occasional visitor or serviceman attending to some necessary chore in the physical plant. I always read, wrote, and took my exercise at home. Then I would take Lad for his afternoon walk and, once dinner was consumed and the dishes had been stacked away, Angel by that point well on his way to his third nap of the day, Lad would nuzzle his head between my legs and indicate that he was ready for his evening workout.

These moments which proceeded from Lad's indicating his readiness to be worked on usually hovered somewhere between ecstatic vision and hallucinatory excitement. Lad would bring me his lead, as he never took the liberty of entering the special chamber I had prepared for his sexual exercises unless he was led in on his collar and on all fours. The massive dick, fully erect in anticipation of whatever particular activity his master had prepared for him that night, usually swayed with furious tempo competing with his heavy balls as they bounced gaily between those muscular haunches above his hindlegs. Thus, he'd pull me along into his playroom, insist on undoing my fly and trousers with his teeth and tongue. And when he managed to get me out of any of the clothing that stood between him and his doggy pleasure, Lad would wait patiently as I secured him either upright or in a crouching position in the special stocks that had been built to keep him at obedient attention. Once positioned in place, his head beaming out from the slats that collared that broad smile and gleaming white teeth in a secure frame of polished wood, I would prepare his dick or rectum for whatever particular pleasure he was about to experience that evening. Regardless of the position, however, I always made it a point of working his butt with a special paddle that was designed to toughen his hide and help prolong his erections. The one-two stroke that I used for his regular discipline proved ideal for maintaining a good reddening to his haunches and turned them within no time at all to a ripe melony complexion that contrasted perfectly with the rest of his milkwhite skin and jetblack hair. Lad began to appear like one of the more noble hunting dogs you often see nestled beside their masters in formal portraits by VanDyke or Gainsborough.

Shortly after Lad was fully healed from his piercings and frenum inserts, his scrotum weights and penis gauges were substantially augmented for maximum pleasure. Of course,I always managed to attach just a few more weights to his well-rounded testicles in order to guarantee that his ballsack would be stretched to a perfect length; this would produce the necessary pressure that would start the cream churning in his gonads so that his orgasms would flow with extra-amounts of thick, hot splooge.

So Lad eagerly would come to await his nightly exercise and I would patiently submit to applying all the skill I could muster while working his testicles and hole to their maximum capacity. Even foreplay became a preparatory ritual. The application of the thick wooden paddle to Lad's muscular buttocks had to be very carefully administered. For in his excitement, Lad would often jostle his huge, metal pierced scrotum and balls and if they hadn't retracted to his waist line before the next stroke landed on his butt a curious yelping sound would be emitted from the back of his throat to indicate that the paddle had landed on the wrong target. Yet Lad was always patient while being disciplined during his foreplay. After all, Lad was slowly being trained to associate pleasure and pain but never in a brutal or senseless way.

Naturally, due to the massive endowment of his penis, Lad especially came to enjoy being sounded for hours on end without losing any of his sperm deposits until I gave him a signal to begin having an intense orgasm. The huge ladcock wouuld just extend itself through the hole in which it had been secured and fastened with chain weights around the circumference of that perfect cock and heavy ball weights to keep his testicles attentively fixed there; then the whole engorged member was well lubed, so it would extend itself beyond the stocks while awaiting the necessary lubricant that would assure a safe penetration by the host of steel sounds to be inserted in varying degrees of girth and weight. These gleaming rods of polished steel were all placed sterile and neatly on a table that Lad could view so as to recognize which instrument had entered his thick penile shaft and which was about to enter it. And as we gently progressed these exquisite penetrations in width and length until his piss slit had finally been plunged to the point of increasing its girth to more than double its size, I would slowly but securely enter him as far as the wall of his bladder and prostate permitted. His gleaming eyelashes would flap and beat to indicate his radical approval, always begging for an ever wider and longer sounding rod. Upon the extraction of each steel rod viscous streams of satiny precum would ooze and flow with a slow cascading hint of the river of splooge that would eventually explode from those massive and beefy testicles once Lad was brought to the point of no return.


At these heigthented moments, his neck muscles would bulge and peer out from the sides of his sculpted head exposed in the stocks, his eyes always glowing with excitement and gratitude for his master's attention. Then he would strain a bit to glimpse down and see the size of the next rod that would soon disappear inside his ever widening piss slit. At such moments his vocal responses began to border upon the almost human. "GRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," for pleasure and "AAaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrggggggggh!" to indicate that his cock needed time to adjust to the larger steel sound or perhaps not enough lubricant had been applied to the walls of his dogdick. Very patiently and slowly I would extract the instrument from that godlike member, hold the lube against the pissslit to assure that more lubricant was being applied; then I would begin inserting the necessary rod to satisfy Lad's intense need for frontal penetration. And once more he would indicate his doggy ecstasy with rolling eyes, wagging tongue, and the widest smile imaginable for a laddog his size.

On those other occasions,when it came time train his ladhole, no amount of creativity was spared in gratifying Lad's insatiable need for full rectal penetration. Again the beautiful melons of his butt would be tenderly prepared with a good ten or fifteen minutes of intense paddling. On a few occasions, I would usually coat his ladballs with generous amounts a linament to create a warm and tingling sensation all around the scrotum, always allowed to dangle freely during his paddling. This was, afterall, the only foreplay that Lad could comprehend before being allowed to indulege in his own selfpleasure. Then, although crouched in his stocks rather than standing, he would be allowed to spread his ladrectum from the desired angle for lubing before impaling himself on a whole series of enormous dildoes. At that point, I would just sit back and relax while he entertained me with his enormous feats of penetration.


Occasionally, I would have to get up and reposition whichever dildo he was trying to insert in himself, but those times were indeed rare. I even spent a small fortune on a custom made dildo shaped like a miniature johnny pump. Lad's custom made toy was personally delivered by a massive hulk of a deliveryman who insisted upon demonstrating how the implement ought to be inserted lest Lad injure himself. He spent a quarter of an hour just lubing Lad up; then the almost two foot high black and silver latex structure was carefully inserted for the first time. In no time at all, Lad was sitting and working himself for hours. And soon most of the sculpted fire plug and side medallions were passing gracefully in and out of Lad's stretched hole while I sat back in awe and pleasure over my laddog's amazing capacity for keeping himself occupied while entertaining his master. I was usually amazed at how carefully the toy could be worked and lubed and inserted deep within Lad's inner hole. I have to admit it took forever for him to get it positioned at just the right angle before he could ride it with the proper rhythm and give himself the necessary sensual high that would eventually produce one of his massive orgasms. But one night his orgasm lasted so long that I lost count before he finally managed to expel the enormous toy. The splooge that was emitted from those massive balls of steel and flesh could have filled a teacup! Luckily, I managed to cup both of my own hands and catch those drops of liquid pearl with enough dutiful attention to assure Lad's recycling every creamy ounce. It seemed that on that night his expressions of gratitude would never be finally played out. But eventually even my Lad gave out with his usual doggy yawns to indicate that he was ready to assume his usual position on the rug where he slept beside his master's bed.

I can only boast that at times like these I was the happiest master in the world. But it was only in that spring of Lad's first year with me that I came to realize just how Lad might come to be regarded as his master's best friend.



Part III: DogShow

There are possibly very few contests in the world comparable to the kind of dogshow that got put on that spring in our compound. Some of the masters were exceptionally cruel to their laddogs and consequently we rarely frequented "their" company. One of the cruellest ones was notoriously flogging his laddog to the point that the man had stripped his pet's skin to such a degree it was often mistaken for a zebra instead of a fully grown laddog while roaming around the park. And certainly no master could take pride in his ownership. Yet, as I said these were rare people and rare instances. The majority of the laddogs being reared there were usually adopted by their masters in order to avoid the kind of cruelty that might come from their natural parents' selling them off to other equally cruel-minded straight people who might use them in violent and deadly ways as was often the case with those lads who went on to prostitution rather than adoption. No, most of the laddogs being raised at our compound were reared with almost the same attentive care that Lad enjoyed at home and in the playroom.

Unfortunately, it was the "zebra's" master who showed up one morning with Lad's registration for the contest. Throughout the meeting, Lad crouched beside me in such a crestfallen manner that the cruel master wondered aloud if my lad was coming down with something. At that point, he insisted that we take Lad's temperature with a rectal thermometer just to be sure!

Once that ordeal was over, however, he made the point of his visit clear.

"The major competition," he announced while smacking his thick pursy lips, "would be the flogging contest."

Lad and I immmediately gazed at one another with curious amusement.

"Do you think your Lad is up to it?" he asked as he left the paper on a foyer table and closed the door behind him.

So we spent the next four weeks leading up to the contest practicing with a demonic tempo in order to prepare Lad's butt and testicles for the kind of workout that he had never before received or probably ever would receive again.

Now the linament become an almost prophylactic application on his scrotum and hide almost every night. I would no sooner apply it, the testicles would achieve a nice warm glow, as his massive cock surged to an almost steely temper and he would gird himself for the hours of practice that would render his butt indefeatible in the presence of the other masters and their laddogs. Then on one occasion when I allowed myself too much pleasure and Lad too much pain, so to speak, I had to spend hours massaging him to repair the damage to his hide. That was the only time I allowed him to be distracted with his johnny pump, otherwise we concentrated on strenghthening his hide for flogging endurance and tightening his hole for the part of the contest for which he could not prepare but with which he would have to take his chances.

It wasnt until the actual point of the flogging competition that I realized just how much Lad had grown in the past half year since he came to live with Angel and me. The initial events scheduled for the dogshow showed Lad leaving most of his competitors in the proverbial dust. Racing with their ball weights only served to remind everyone there at least Lad and his pal Hnaef could give even a real greyhound a run for his doggy money. The erection contest was no match for Lad. He won best of show in the hindleg raising/pissing contest; and then, of course, he was the gold medal winner in the dildo contest. Yet, after all these trials, even I was unsure how my Lad would fare when it was announced that the Zebra's master had been chosen to flog the gold medal winner in the dildo contest. Again a look of confusion followed by trepidation was exchanged as Lad was fixed in place and his flogger went to select a bull whip.


Lad motioned to struggle with the ropes that secured his front paws and hindlegs in order to guarantee that he and the other laddogs would remain in a standing position--unaccustomed as they were after having balanced themselves on all fours since youth. I got up and went directly to his platform to assure him of my confidence in his proving himself superior to any of the other laddogs in the show. Then I turned his well-lubed tail thrice so that the butt plug pressure inside his ladhole would help relax him and firm up his unusually engorged boner. He was unaccustomed to assuming this position without having a well-lubed sound inserted in his ladcock. But I stroked it and massaged his swelling gonads sufficiently to assure him that I'd be watching every moment of his flogging to lend him my support. Then he licked my hand in gratitude as if to keep me there longer. I even managed to slip him one of his favorite doggy treats under the gaze of the judges who were so distracted by the magnificent torso his back formed when standing in an upright position they failed to notice such an obvious infraction of the rules.

No sooner did the event begin than all six disks upon which the finalists had been positioned with their floggers standing attentively behind them began to rotate to the oooooooooos and aaaaaaaas of all in the assembly. This special effect was produced merely for the purpose of guaranteeing that the audience could view the effect of the flogging as the bullwhip struck the hides and butts of the laddogs while allowing everyone there to enjoy the magnificent erections that the flogging produ ced in the subjects themselves. And they enjoyed their flogging as well once the initial sting was applied to the toned and oiled backs. Then the laddogs whose butts were exposed for the pleasure of their beholders relaxed into the rhythm of their flogging. The three whose splooge began squirting into the audience before a sufficiently lengthy flogging had been applied to their well-trained hides were, needless to say, immediately disqualified. It was, to be sure, a consistently drmamatic experience. After a good twenty minutes of really intense flogging, however, only Lad and Hnaef, as I had earlier suspected, were left "standing" in every sense of the word. The two champion laddogs were unbound from their flogging webs. Those more ardent fans in the audience were allowed to approach them and stroke their swollen members in gratitude for the incredible performance each had pulled off while still maintaining fully engorged laddicks without so much as oozing a hint of precum. One younger master had to be restrained after he attempted to suck on their pierced laddicks several times, kept begging for mercy to the consternation of the two lad dogs who never had a human mouth touch their penis shafts--such was the intense discipline that I and Hnaef's master had managed to administer to our laddogs. Hnaef was so confused by the gesture he dropped on all fours and immediately began self-sucking and grooming his testicles to the applause and cheers of the rest of the audience. Lad, of course, looked at no one except his master.

At this point, the judges decided that the flogging contest was a draw and the decision would be made only after each of the two heroic laddogs had managed to impale the rest of their earlier competitors on the magnificent erections that they had worn so proudly for the the awe and respect of the entire audience. Even I could not be sure of the outcome when this turn of events was announced.

The other laddogs were brought in, fixed by their collars to stationary poles around the arena. Then the two champions were lubed to a really breathtaking length of virile potency. Hnaef may have been a fraction thicker in girth when compared to Lad even after all the hours and effort we spent sounding his ladcock into the night. Yet Lad's cock was still a good inch longer and that proved ultimately more impressive to each of the laddogs who were waiting to be mounted and ridden for the mandatory impalings. Another breathtaking hour of laddog mountings were accompanied by barks, yelps, and growls to such an extent that most of the members of the audience were tugging at their own bulging crotches. Yet after all the give and take of penile insertion, Lad managed to bring eight of his subjects to orgasm while impaling them on his own magnificent ladcock while holding back his orgasm throughout; then Hnaef, only managed to bring seven to shoot their doggy splooge at a noticeable distance, no sooner withdrew his ladcock from the last laddog impaled there, and exploged in a puddle of splooge and creamy gonad curds. Hnaef's master bowed his head in shame for his laddog's outburst, so to speak, and Lad knew he won.

At this point in the show, all the judges agreed that Lad deserved the top prize, no holds barred. Hnaef posed for the necessary portrait while crouched before Lad's still bulging testicles and proudstanding erection so as to indicate his acknowledging that Lad was indeed top dog there. Then Lad posed standing on his hind legs so as to exhibit the winning cock and gonads with whatever erect strength he could still muster and his front paws and prince albert all pointing toward the gleaming afternoon sun.

When the judges presented Lad with his trophy, a brand new latex dildo in the shape of a johnny pump just slightly bigger than the one that Lad been self-penetrating his ladhole with these past three months, he and I turned to each other with a grimace of relief and ironic disappointment. His final gesture, positioning his hole on the trophy top for a last photo made me realize just how loyal my Lad could be even in the face of such dumbfounded submission. When we got home, he celebrated with a bowl of Milkbone doggy biscuits after showing Angel his new trophy. Then we placed the new toy in his playroom and settled down for a warm night of golden showers and a doggy bubble bath fit for a canine king.

Finis Historiae Canis Magni!



End.