“Sir, I’m gonna have to give you a pat down,” the officer said.

The metal detector had gone off for the third time, and Jack swore he didn’t have anything metal on him, but the officer pushed him up against the wall and patted him down the back and front, and everything was normal until the officer suddenly shoved his gloved hand between Jack’s legs, and Jack felt something push into his asshole. He let out a surprised yelp, and the officer smirked.

“Ah, so that’s the problem–we got a tail. You’re gonna have to follow me sir.”

“E–Excuse me?” Jack said, but in response, the cop just grabbed the back of his pants in both of his gloved hands and ripped the denim apart, letting the rubber tail attached to the six inch plug stuck up his ass loose from the inside of his jeans. Jack started panting, relieved to have it free, and he wagged it back and forth, wondering what in the world he was doing.

“Come on boy,” the officer said, “We need to get you trained for the K-9 squad.” The cop pulled out a leather collar which he clipped around Jack’s neck, and led him through the police headquarters on all fours. No one paid this any mind, and Jack tried to protest, but for some reason all he could do was whimper and bark. Down in the basement, however, all was made clear soon enough. He was just another squad dog, trained to serve his master officers–the pack alpha set him straight in a few days time, and he was just another obedient K-9 unit, out on patrols, by the end of the week.

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