The Bro Apartments (Flash Commission)

Commissioned by @mutabear

“Yeah bro–it isn’t much, but it should do you for now, I think,” Greg said, as he showed me around the small one bedroom apartment I was looking at renting. I had just graduated from college this month, landed a tech job with a startup nearby, and the apartment was workable–at least until the app took off and we got some of that sweet venture capital coming in.

Greg for his part seemed…nice. Mid forties probably, but not really dressed like it. He reminded me of the frat bros back in college, but one who never grew out of it. Sports jersey, gym shorts, big belly from too much beer every night, hat on backwards…I mostly felt a bit sorry for him, because he seemed really nice and genuine beyond that.

“Of course,” Greg continued, “We have a gym for you to use if you want. A lot of the bros work out there–saves money on a gym membership! We’re a real tight community around here, so I’m sure you’ll fit in.”

“Well, I’ll probably be at work most of the time,” I said.

Greg nodded. “Well, you just owe me first, last, and a deposit–I don’t bother with credit checks or shit like that.”

“Really? Aren’t you worried about people flaking out?”

Greg laughed, “Eh, not really. Besides PJ gave you a good recommendation, so I’m not worried.”

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about my friend Paul Jeffers, who had moved in a few months earlier, and recommended I check it out. Never in my life had I ever heard Paul referred to by his initials. I signed the lease agreement for six months, gave him a check, and got to work moving in.

It was a week later when I finally managed to connect with Paul in the complex. Moving in had been easy–even the furniture. A couple neighbors of mine (just as broish as Greg was, but still nice fellows) helped me get stuff up into my room, and insisted I come over to their apartment for a beer afterward. The strangest thing…is I don’t really remember getting home that night, and when I woke up, I…was nearly naked. All I had on was this weird, ripe smelling jockstrap. I took it off of course, and meant to throw it out, but it ended up by the bed.

When I did connect with Paul, or rather, PJ as everyone in the apartment complex called him, I…well, it was a surprise to say the least, on many, many fronts. The Paul from school had been a small guy, really bright, a sharp programmer…but this was not the same Paul I had known from a year ago.

For one thing, he was taller than me. He must have grown a foot taller somehow, and when I pointed it out, he just told me it was a late growth spurt. He was more muscular, with a decent sized gut, wearing sports jerseys like everyone else in the complex besides me it seemed. He spoke different too–slower, with a whole lot more “Bro” and “Dude” than he had…but it was the same guy. I was put off, but once he’d coaxed me into drinking a few of the beers he’d brought by, we got on perfectly well…but again, I fucking blacked out, and woke up alone, in my bed…wearing that same jock from before.

I thought it had to be some prank the guys were pulling on me, but I’d also woken up horny as hell, jacked off, and blew my load into the pouch…and I left it there, and dozed back off. When I woke again, I pulled the thing off in disgust and took a shower…but still couldn’t seem to throw it away.

It was a few days after that when I got an even bigger surprise–when PJ introduced me to his boyfriend–Alec. Paul–Paul who had always been straight, if not all that successful at it, was gay! It…surprised the hell out of me, and I wasn’t too keen on hanging out with him after that, especially since the last time I’d woken up with no memory and mostly naked…but he was just so congenial, and Alec was sweet, and with some more beer, they coaxed me over to watch a game–and then another game a few nights later. And then I started going to the gym with them, and hanging out more, and…and I was having so much fun, and work was just so difficult and stressful!

I couldn’t seem to focus while I was at the office, and the capital wasn’t coming, and I didn’t know how I was going to be able to pay rent a few months down the line. So yeah, I…avoided my problems a bit. Hanging out with PJ and Alec–and some of the other bros in the complex was just so much more relaxing. It was a week later when I realized I had the jock on–at work. I had woken up in it a few days earlier, and just never taken it off! I was horrified, but didn’t have anything to change into…and by the time I got home, and had a couple of beers…I didn’t want to take it off. Greg…told me about this party he’s throwing for the whole complex here in a few days. He really wants me to come…but I’m scared. This place, these guys, they’re doing something to me, they’re making me like them, and…and I’m so happy, I don’t know what to do.

The party was a fuckin’ blast bro! Just–fuck! You had to be there to really, you know, get it.

So I showed up, and everyone from the complex was there, hangin’ around the pool, and they were all wearing these jocks, just as dirty as the one I had on. A few other guys, more “normal” ones like me, were there too…and we all started stripping down to our own jocks…and fuck, it felt so good not to have to hide anymore, or be alone!

PJ and Alec found me, got some beers in me, and before I knew it, PJ had his tongue down my throat, and fuck, I…I’d wanted him since the day I’d seen him here, but I hadn’t even realized it. Alec came back, lubed up my hole, and coached me through it, just like he’d coached me at the gym, and soon I was riding his cock, moanin’ and gruntin’, PJ sucking me off, and Greg…he was holding court, watching all a us bro’s hangin’ out and fuckin’, and happy as a fuckin’ bro whose team just won the championship.

I woke up between them in their apartment…and I knew there wasn’t any way back for me. I’m…fuckin’ huge, and hairy, and…maybe a bit stupid, but who cares? PJ ‘n Alec don’t care–when they woke up we went right back into it, fuckin’ and suckin’ and lickin’…

I quit my job. Alec says he can find me somethin’ nearby at the college working in sports administration or something, nothing too hard. I’ll be saving money in any case, ‘cause I’m movin’ in with them next week–Greg was more than happy to let me off the lease, as long as I recommend someone to take it, and I got just the friend in mind.

The Fetish Gun is Loose! (Part 9)

And we’re back! There will still probably be a few days this week without new updates, but hopefully it should be back to normal(ish) by next week. Bear with the upheaval–besides, it’s my birthday on Friday! You all have to cut me some slack, so there.

Rick gave a groan, and sat up in the booth where he’d been thrown by the gun, when it had gone shorted out. When he realized where he was, and who he was, he made a quick check of himself to see if anything about himself had changed when the gun had struck him–and to his surprise, he was still the same tall, thick leather clad biker bruiser he’d been after his tussle with Parker a few minutes ago, or at least, what he assumed had been a few minutes ago. He had no idea how long he’d been out, in all honesty.

The gun wasn’t where it had fallen, and he got up to look for it–but when he did, he heard a rather unsettling moan coming from under him, and his foot sank into something…squishy, and fleshy. He tumbled back down in alarm, and saw that both of his boots–were not quite boots any longer. They were still black, mostly, but the rim of the top of each of them were shaped like lips, and he could feel them sucking on his feet gently. The tongues of the boots were becoming more active and shrinking, becoming red instead of black, as fledgling limbs began to sprout on the sides and out the toe of the boot. The leather faded into flesh–though it remained quite leathery–he reached down and stroked one gently, and felt Anthony–he thought–shudder at his touch, and suck a bit harder, trying to stay on his foot even as his body was beginning to reform into a proper sort of form.

The foot of each boot began to grow, becoming a proper body–small at first, but becoming larger with each passing second. He could still feel his feet filling each man’s mouth, and down a bit of their throat, though it was becoming tighter and tighter. The men tried their best to keep his feet slammed in deep, but it proved hopeless as their human anatomy regained prominence. They each had to release the foot eventually, though their oversized tongues kept slathering Rick’s feet as hungrily as they had before.

As they grew larger, Rick noticed something else–that he couldn’t quite tell who was who. When he’d fired the gun at Anthony, by accident, he had been his father–wearing his soggy diaper, covered in shit from Parker’s eager fisting of Anthony’s hole, before he’d tried to grab the gun. But when he’d shot Parker, he’d been…normal, mostly. Now however, he was looking down at two versions of his dad–they looked…identical. Two massively fat old pigs, both of them eagerly sucking and feasting on his filthy feet.

As they both changed back, new memories were filling in his mind–and it wasn’t his father and a stranger sucking on his cock, but rather his uncle and father, twin brothers/, and both of them hungry for Rick’s filthy body more than anything else. They were mostly changed at this point, and Anthony noticed something else, that each of the brothers was actually a mirror image of the other–just like his boots of course.

After another few minutes, they were both back to their (new) old selves, their prior lives forgotten for the most part. Rick allowed the two of them to keep servicing his feet for a couple of minutes, lost in the pleasure of it until he recalled the gun, and kicked both of them off–they could take care of cleaning his feet later.

Rick surveyed they bar, and saw a couple of guys tussling over something by the dance floor. Sure enough, he caught sight of the gun between them, the pig turning the other man into a brutal looking rubber master, who proceeded to fuck the pig’s mouth right there on the floor–and the pig let the gun fall to the floor beside him, largely forgotten.

This was his chance–if he could get to the gun, it would be his again–and he could have some more fun with it before the night was through. Then again, the rubber redneck looked…pretty sexy. He might be amenable to joining forces, and families. There was always Davey too–and the odd, shifting bartender over there. He could find some way to get his hands on the gun again…probably.

*

So what should Rick’s plan be next?

  1. He tries to work out a deal with the rubber redneck, and sees what he might want to trade for the gun.
  2. He fights with him for the gun, causing some wild, unpredictable shots.
  3. He notices that the drinks poured by the bartender seem to be having strange effects, and wonders if that could help deal with the rubber redneck.
  4. He heads over to Davey instead, and sees if he wants to team up and get the gun back together.

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VACATION! (Not really one at all because moving is terrible)

Hey all! I’ve been moving all month, and it’s crunch time, and I’ve kind of exhausted my usual buffer, and so posts are going to be…a bit suspended for a few days, until I get my feet back under me. Hopefully it will only be for a couple of days, but it might be a week! I don’t know! Moving is terrible.

I am no longer taking new requests for flash commissions, but I still plan on finishing the queue I have established over the next month. If you haven’t received your story, just hold on a little longer, and I’ll get it to you. If your finances/interest has changed, just let me know, and I’ll scratch you off the list, no harm done.

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 6)

“Come on, get up,” Geoff said.

Angus stood up, but it was harder than it should have been. He could…see his gut sticking out from his waist, and it seemed so much larger than it had been, but it also felt…right, somehow. They went into the bedroom, and stood in front of the mirror on the wall. Angus was shocked. It wasn’t at all the reflection he was expecting, his body mostly covered with tan fur, his fat gut hanging surprisingly low, his face misshapen, more muzzle than mouth now, teeth…sharper than he remembered them being.

“You look like a mean dog, don’t you?” Geoff said, “I wouldn’t want to tangle with you on a dark night in an alley.”

“I…I guess so, sir.”

“Go on, growl, bare those teeth for me.”

Angus did, and he even scared himself a bit–not only because he did look a bit fierce…but also because it felt kind of good. It made his dick jump. Not as much as when he obeyed Master, of course, but…but Master was right, he did look like a mean dog.

“Yeah, that’s it–I don’t have to worry about you though. Around me, you’re just a good little puppy dog, aren’t you? You’d never bite the paw that feeds you,” He pulled out a doughnut he’d brought along, and slid it into Angus’s mouth, watching him devour it. “Yeah–that’s a good boy. Still, you could be a bit more imposing, I think. Let me see that collar.”

Angus was a bit worried that he might take it off him, but all Geoff did was loosen it a couple notches, making it feel loose around his neck–though it didn’t stay loose for long. In the mirror, he watched his frame start to swell, all of him growing evenly, until he was a few inches taller than before, and almost too wide to see himself in the mirror. He looked down at Master, and was surprised by how small he seemed to him now–he must have towered over him by a foot and a half or so…and while he knew he was probably stronger than him, and could take him in a fight, he stamped out that idea as quick as he could. He’d never hurt his Master, never in a million years–no, but if his Master didn’t like anyone…well, Angus knew what he could do to them.

“Yeah, that’s fucking hot, look at you,” Geoff said, “A big stupid, feral mutt, that’s what you are.”

“I…I thought I was a dingo…”

“Shut up. Get on your knees boy–I think you’ve finally earned this bone.”

Angus dropped to his knees as fast as he could, while Geoff pulled his cock free, and Angus started slobbering all over it. He had to be careful of his fangs now–they were much sharper than they’d been before, and Master had to slap him upside the head when he scraped his cock on them by accident, but he got the hang of it before long, and it tasted even better than he remembered. That, or he could just taste it better. His eyes seemed a bit dimmer somehow, but every other sense was ratcheted up–smell in particular. He found himself snorting in his Master’s scent, wanting to know it, and never, ever forget it.

Geoff got tired of his boy’s muzzle after a couple minutes, and ordered him to bend over the bed instead. The badger watched the dingo’s tail wag high in anticipation, knowing what was coming next. Geoff fucked him, and it hurt at first, but soon he was panting hard and pushing back, his own cock leaking onto the bed sheets beneath him. He never wanted this to end, he never wanted his Master to stop fucking him, even though he was equally desperate to feel the badger seed his load deep inside him. The badger’s thrusts quickened, and then he came deep, Angus letting off a howl of excitement, his own cock exploding, knowing he’d been a very good boy even without Master having to say it. He cleaned off Master’s cock afterwards on the bed, and Geoff pet him, running his claws through his soft tan fur, watching the brown highlights come in on his back, his tail filling out. He wasn’t quite finished, but would be by morning.

As they laid there, he filled his newest pet in on his new life. He didn’t work in an office anymore, and certainly wasn’t married to any human. No–he was Geoff’s partner on the police force, the meanest police dog on the force, at least until they got home. Here, he was Geoff’s chubby fuckhound, desperate to do anything for the badger’s cock. Parts of him tried to fight, but they were fading quickly. By bedtime, Angus was mostly gone–he was just Officer Dingo, now. He curled up beside his Master’s bed, where he always slept, and was snoring before too long, Geoff looking down, admiring the handsome boy he’d claimed for himself. This one, he really did want to keep for himself–it was a pity he came with so many strings attached. He’d dealt with harder cases before, though–it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He dug out Angus’s old wallet from his pants, memorizing the address before burning it, and the clothes, in the fireplace. They’d pay his one time husband a visit tomorrow, with another one of his special collars. Who knows? Maybe he’d get a couple of pliant pets for himself by the end of tomorrow night. Of course, if the husband didn’t come along easily, there were always other solutions as well.

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 5)

Geoff led the way up to his apartment the next block over. It was small, but clean and efficient. As soon as they were inside, Angus was back on his knees, whining and pleading for Master to let him have another taste of his cock, but Geoff ordered him to strip. He wanted to see how his new boy was progressing in other ways. Angus did, still panting slightly, taking off his coat and tie, his shirt, slacks and underwear, standing completely naked in front of the badger, red cock jutting from its sheath, knot already slightly swollen. Geoff circled him, noting that he was quite a bit hairier than he’d been before, especially around his cock and ass. Short tan hair, giving Geoff a bit of an idea of what direction to push this new boy. He would be absolutely loyal to his master, of course–before too long, his need to serve wouldn’t even require him to wear the collar at all, but that wouldn’t happen until well after the physical transformation had completely finished. His face, too, was already looking less human. His ears had slid higher on his head,more pointed than round, and taken on the same tan coloring as the rest of his new fur. His mouth was also shifting, pushing out slightly into the hint of a muzzle, tongue longer and flatter, nose starting to blacken slightly. No tail yet, though–but soon. Probably after another hour or two.

“What do you want, boy?”

“I want to be your good boy sir,” Angus said, his ass wiggling a bit, almost begging for a tail to shake.

“Well, we should train you a little bit first, don’t you think? Teach you a few tricks? If you do well, I might feed you the bone you’re looking for,” Geoff said, groping the front of his uniform slacks. “But if we’re going to train you, you’re going to need some treats, don’t you think?” Geoff went into the kitchen, and returned with several flat boxes he had bought at the store earlier, in preparation. He opened the top one, revealing a dozen doughnuts inside of various varieties. “Do you like doughnuts, boy?”

Angus wasn’t quite sure how to answer, because all he really wanted at the moment was cock. “I…I guess so, sir.”

“Well, all of my good boys love doughnuts–after all, I like my partners to have some weight on them,” Geoff said, “Now kneel.”

Angus got on his knees, and Geoff broke off a bit of a doughnut, sliding it into his mouth. It was sweet and sugary, but it wasn’t until Geoff called him a good boy for obeying, and for eating his treat, that it took on a different flavor entirely. It tasted like love and victory. It tasted like his Master’s paw, and his cock, and his adoration and pride. Suddenly, he couldn’t imagine anything he wanted more than another treat–aside from his Master’s cum, of course. He licked his chops with his long tongue, and eyed the rest of the boxes as Geoff set them on the table near him. It was…a lot to eat, but he could do it for Master, he knew he could. He was a good boy, after all.

Geoff started putting him through a few paces, keeling and sitting, making him shake and roll over, ordering him to speak–or rather, bark like a proper dog, which sounded more like a proper pup each time he did it. The pieces of doughnut he fed him got larger and larger, Geoff eventually just shoving entire doughnuts into Angus’s mouth, watching him tear into them with joy, licking frosting from his now short, tan muzzle, looking up at him with delight after each one, knowing he was being good, and knowing that his Master was pleased with his obedience.

After a couple of boxes, Geoff got bored with the tricks, parked Angus on the couch and focused on feeding him. He felt so damn full, but every time he tried to stop, his Master would chasitze him lightly, and the shame would drive him to eat even more. As he did, Geoff would rub his gut, watching it expand with fat, his hips widening as well, the first little bit of a tail poking out above his ass before growing rapidly, his face now more dog than human in many ways–and it was time to start working on his mind.

“Now, tell me what you are, boy.”

“I’m a good boy!” Angus shouted, his voice muffled with a half devoured doughnut.

“Well you are that, but are you a human?”

“Y-Yes?” Angus said, hesitantly. He wasn’t quite sure why he hesitated, but that was the right answer, he thought, until he saw Geoff shake his head, and he realized he was wrong. “I…I thought I was though.”

“No, you aren’t a human. You do get confused though, don’t you? You aren’t a particularly smart boy, after all. You’re a dog.”

“I…I’m a dog…” Angus repeated, and Geoff fed him a doughnut, “Yeah, I’m a dog! Not…Not a human…”

Good boy. Do you know what kind of dog you are?” Geoff said, “You’re not a nice kind of dog–not a lab or a retriever. No–you’re a rough dog. A fighting dog. A mean dog, to everyone else but your Master, of course. No, you’re a dingo. Still a bit feral, rough around the edges–more than willing to snap at someone who looks at you the wrong way.”

Angus hesitated. That didn’t really…sound like him, did it? He liked being nice, and Chance told him he was a nice guy, and smart, and gentle…but Chance seemed so far away now, to him. So easy to…forget, almost. Master was probably right though, Master was right about most everything, and he knew that it he disagreed…that he’d be a bad boy, and he mostly didn’t want to be a bad boy.

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 4)

It wasn’t the sort of bar Angus felt particularly comfortable in. Humans and anthros got along well, generally, but there were always spaces, and crowds, who preferred to be among their own. While it wasn’t legal to openly discriminate against anyone, if you wanted to self-select, no one was going to stop you. He stepped inside, and everyone stared at him when he did, making him known he was, if not unwelcome, at the very least a curiosity. Thankfully, Geoff was already there, sitting at a booth in the back, and he headed for him, sliding in across from him.

“There’s the boy,” Geoff said, smiling wide across his whole muzzle. “I was worried you might get cold feet.”

Angus shook his head, “I…look, I need to know…what was…since that night, something’s been happening to me.”

“Oh?” the badger said, still smiling, “What sort of things?”

Angus just looked at him, and realized that, most likely, the badger already knew exactly what was going on with him. He turned red in the face, realized this was a gigantic mistake, and started to get up to leave. He’d figure out some other way to deal with this, tell Chance what was going on, work through it–but he knew this badger wasn’t going to do anything to help him fix it.

“Leaving already? Sit your ass back down like a good boy,” Geoff said, and as hard as Angus fought it, he instinctually dropped back into the booth.

“You–that collar, it did something to me. I want you to fix it.”

“I don’t believe you, boy,” Geoff said, “I think you want something else more, don’t you? You want to put it back on. Feel that…pleasure some more. I haven’t had a dog with me on the force in quite a while, you know–my last partner ended up…well, he was worth more to me as someone else’s good boy, eventually. He was never as eager as you are, though. I had to hunt him down, but you came crawling back in less than a week,” he leaned closer, and Angus could smell his breath, flashing him back to that night on the side of the road for a moment, his own breath quickening, “in fact, I think this is a record. You want to be a good boy that badly, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Angus blurted out before he could stop himself, and all the shame he felt couldn’t mitigate the truth of the statement.

“Well, if you do really want that, here you go,” Geoff said, fished the collar out of his pocket, pulled the collar out, and laid it on the table in front of Angus.

“Can…If I put it on, can you change me back?”

“My Good Boy collars can do lots of things,” Geoff said, “But you still want to put it on, don’t you? Even if I told you in was permanent? It doesn’t make a difference to you boy–so stop pretending like it matters, and put it on.”

“I…I can’t, I’m married, and I just want things to go back to the way they were.”

Geoff just stared at him, and then down at the collar. It was clear that going back wasn’t on the table, at the moment, but maybe, if…if he was good enough, Master would change him back…later, right? He could probably do that, after all. He picked up the collar and held it in his hands. He hadn’t gotten to see it at all, that night, and he was surprised by how normal it looked–the ragged brown leather, well worn, and a tarnished silver buckle. It did smell strongly of dog, and the notches for the buckle, for some reason, ran the entire length of the collar, from right beside the buckle, all the way to the end of the foot and a half long leather strap. He ran it around his neck, but had a hard time securing the buckle, because of how hard his hands were shaking, he made it, and as soon as he did, that sense of complete pleasure washed over him again, and his tongue rolled out of his mouth, hanging down to his chin.

“That’s a very good boy, putting your collar on all by yourself,” Geoff said, “You feel better, having that on you?”

Angus nodded, rubbing himself through his pants, so happy to hear Master call him a good boy again. It had been so long–days!–without hearing that from him, and he could feel his heart thrumm with excitement, his dog cock about ready to burst. “Yes sir, thank you sir, for putting my collar back on! I missed it…” Angus said, and then leaned closer, “Can…can I suck your cock again, Sir? I…I mean, if you want…”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want to have a beer with me first?” Geoff said, “I thought you said that you just wanted to talk to me about something, when you messaged me?”

Angus whined impatiently. He had said that, hadn’t he? Why had he said that! He hadn’t meant that, that was such a dumb thing to say.

Geoff laughed, “I only live a block from here, boy, so why don’t we go there?”

Angus nodded, and followed the badger out of the bar, the rest of the patrons looking at him knowingly. It wasn’t the first time Geoff had brought someone there in one of his collars, and they all knew that in a day or two, Geoff would bring them back around–only this time much later a night, and usually only wearing their new, favorite collar in the whole world, more than eager to let the rest of the patrons of the bar have their turn. But for now–he was Geoff’s, and as Angus followed him out of the bar, he didn’t notice everyone else grinning at him. The only thing he could think about was his Master.

Suggested Story – Cursing the Boss | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Here is this week’s suggested story! You can get access to it, and all my other flash fiction based off Patreon suggestions for one dollar a month over on Patreon! In this week’s story, an office worker tries to curse his boss, but doesn’t realize that bad karma has a way of hitting you back, if you aren’t careful.

Suggested Story – Cursing the Boss | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 3)

His cock. The cock attached to his body. That wasn’t…the cock he should have, was it? He’d had sex with a couple of hounds before, so he knew exactly what he was looking at–where his normal, human cock should have been, he was looking at a bright red dog cock, sliding free of a sheath running up from his balls.

He heard the toilet flush, and quickly scrambled for a clean pair of underwear to throw on before Chance came into the bedroom and fell on the bed, and Angus took his turn in the bathroom. Safely alone, he pulled down the briefs again, and just…stared at it, and then felt it, prodding it as it grew erect, and all he could hear in his head was the badger calling him a good boy, and the tightness of the collar around his neck. It had to be connected, didn’t it? It wasn’t exactly unheard of for someone to change species, of course–but usually it required close contact with that species, and didn’t happen this…suddenly. He did still have to piss, though aiming was a bit strange. The cock was slicker than usual, and didn’t feel at all right in his hand. He managed to not make too much of a mess, and then went to bed, where the lights were already out, and Chance was snoring. He didn’t manage to fall asleep for a while, running the encounter through his mind, and he recalled the card the badger had given him, that he’d put in his pocket. He got out of bed, found it, and took it into the hall to read it.

Officer Geoff Braddock. That was his name. It had a phone number too. Hopefully it would go away in a day or two–he’d heard that these sorts of things usually did. But if not…he’d have to see him again, and figure out what he’d have to do to fix this.

The changes didn’t disappear like Angus had hoped. The next morning, he still had his dog-like cock, and managed to keep it hidden from Chance through the day, keeping his underwear on, and running errands before they both had to go back to work the next day. Chance could tell he was distant, and knew something had happened between his husband and the cop the night before, but it was obvious Angus didn’t want to talk about it…and he was honestly relieved. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, and that made him feel a bit guilty, since it was all, really, his fault for getting drunk when he should have stayed sober. But was that really all? Angus flinched in the afternoon, when Chance just laid a hand on his shoulder, and while he apologized for the reaction and said he’d just surprised him…there did seem to be something else going on. He didn’t want to ask though–he’d just get defensive. He’d have to trust that Angus would tell him when he was ready.

Work was easier, for Angus, than just staying at home. Having something to do made it easier to forget about what was wrong with him…though he was slowly realizing it wasn’t just his cock that seemed to have changed, even if that was the most prominent shift. There were other, slighter differences, things that he couldn’t quite be convinced were really different at all. His ears were slightly more pointed. The hair on his body was slightly thicker, especially around his crotch, and instead of the deep brown it was usually, it had lightened, almost into a tan color. He knew he should tell Chance about it–but hesitated all the same. Was it out of shame? Maybe a little, but part of him also…enjoyed it, more and more, as he was growing used to it. He would take out the card he’d gotten from Geoff, think about calling…but he didn’t. He almost didn’t want to know more. He just wanted everything to go back to normal–but it became increasingly clear, as the week wore on, that normal wasn’t going to happen if he did nothing. He either had to tell Chance and see if he could get some treatment–which meant being honest about everything–or it meant going to the cop, and seeing if he would help him get back to normal…though he doubted, somehow, the officer would want to. He had, every much, liked how good a boy Angus had been, hadn’t he? He had been a very good boy…and part of him wanted to be a good boy again.

When it became clear that things were not getting better on his own, and with Chance becoming more obviously concerned about what was troubling him, Angus broke down and called Geoff on Wednesday, after he left work. The badger didn’t pick up, and he left a voice message, telling him that he needed to see him, and not giving him any details. An hour later, he got a text back from the number.

Need more? I had a feeling you’d give me a call.

Should he tell him what was happening? No, it would be better if the cop just thought he wanted sex. If he told him about the changes, he’d probably hold the reason behind it for ransom. So he led him on, telling him he wanted more, telling him he wanted to be a good boy too, for him. They agreed to meet the next day, after work. Angus told Chance he was going to get drinks with some coworkers, and might be out late. He…hated lying to him, but really he was sparing him, right? He could barely focus the next day at work, all he could think about was the badger, and that collar. It had to have been the collar. Maybe it had been worn by some other dog, and that was why it had affected him like this. In any case…he just had to know, but secretly, he was wondering if he also wanted something else the badger was offering–the chance to…feel that again. To feel like a good boy. To…be a good boy. He caught himself at his desk, panting and rubbing his cock through the front of his pants, remembering how the badger had tasted. Remembering how…Master had tasted. He pulled his hand away, disgusted at himself, trying to strengthen his resolve. He finished the day, and then he headed for the bar where Geoff had arranged for them to meet.

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 2)

Was he really suggesting what Angus thought he was suggesting? It wasn’t a…terrible suggestion, he supposed, and Chance would probably understand, right? It was better than paying thousands of dollars in fees, and maybe even jail time–and losing his job in the process. “I…I can help you out with whatever you need, officer.”

“That’s just Sir, to you, mutt.”

“Yes sir.”

“Turn around, and get on your knees.”

Angus was thankful that Chance couldn’t see this, at least, given they were behind the car in the dark. In all honesty, Angus was usually the one who was the top in the bedroom, but something about this situation was actually turning him on a bit as well. He carefully got down on his knees, looking up at the badger now, and had to admit he was quite handsome. Muscular and thick, despite his somewhat short stature, and with a thick gut, broad chest, and muscular, furry arms. The cop gripped the flashlight in his snout, undid his fly, and let his cock–just as short and thick as the rest of him, poke out. “Well come on then, get to it–and if you can’t do the job, maybe we’ll see if that husband of yours can do better.”

Angus did the best he knew how to do, though he wasn’t exactly enjoying it–and he hoped that Chance wouldn’t get brave, suddenly, and decide to see what was going on back here–if he couldn’t hear anyway, through the still open from window. Occasionally, a car would fly past them, and he would tense, the badger giving him a smack or poking his claws into the back of his neck, to encourage him to focus. “Come on now, be a good boy–the faster you work, the less likely anyone is going to see you.”

So Angus focused, and found a rhythm, while the badger slid one of his hands into a pocket of his pants. He slipped one of his favorite toys into work with him, because he’d had a feeling, as he usually did, that he might get a chance to have some fun tonight–and this was turning out to be quite a bit of fun. The man was already eager, and plenty willing to obey–but he’d be a proper good boy in no time–and so would that cute husband of his, too.

Before Angus noticed anything at all, the badger bent over, wrapped a strap of leather around his neck, and secured it in the back. Angus tried to yank away, but…didn’t. Instead, he felt an odd sense of pleasure numbing his mind–not unlike being a bit too drunk, but also quite a bit different. “Yeah, you’re going to be a very good boy from now on, won’t you?”

The words “good boy” lit something up in Angus’s brain this time, that it hadn’t done before. A direct, hot ,erotic pleasure and ride at doing what his Master told him to do, and doing it well…but he shouldn’t be feeling that, should he? He focused on sucking the badger’s cock instead, hoping that when he was finished, he would take it off of him…but did he want it to come off, really? It felt kind of comfortable, actually…like it belonged around his neck, and it made him feel good to wear it, didn’t it? Showing it off, letting everyone know that…that he was owned? He felt his cock straining the front of his jeans, but with his wrists secured behind him, all he could do was thrust forward–that, and leak profusely into his underwear.

“Guess somebody likes being a good boy,” the badger said, “That make you feel good, mutt? Sucking your master’s cock?”

“Yes sir,” Angus said, still stoking.

The badger didn’t last long after that, and he filled Angus’s mouth with a load of cum, and told him one more time that he was a very good boy, and that pushed Angus over the edge. He felt his cum spill out into his underwear, soaking the front of his pants as he panted, licking his lips of the badger’s cum, feeling proud at having done a good job like a good boy should. He looked up at the badger looming over him. He…wanted more. Wanted to keep being a good boy for him.

“I figured you’d just need a little motivation,” the badger said, reached down, and unhooked the collar from around Angus’s neck. As soon as it came lose, that feeling of eager devotion melted away into a deep, horrific shame. Had he really just done that? Sucked off a police officer on the side of the road, and enjoyed it? The badger hauled him up to his feet, turned him around, and unlocked the cuffs from his wrists. “Now that you’ve sobered up a bit, you should be good to go, right?”

Angus nodded..

“I couldn’t hear you, boy,”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good–you have a nice mouth. Not sure what your arrangement is with that hubby of yours, but if you want to be my good boy some more, here–” he fished a card out of his pocket, and handed it down to Angus, who took it, and wishing he didn’t want it as much as he did.

Angus got back up, went around the car, and got back in. “Are…are we free to go?” Chance asked.

“Yeah–I took care of it.”

Chance didn’t want to ask, and Angus didn’t really feel like talking about it. He drove very carefully the rest of the way home, still feeling how wet the front of his slacks were slick with his own cum, and still tasting the badger’s on his breath. Could Chance tell? He didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to offer any details. They got home. Chance stumbled in first, and Angus followed behind him, heading right for the bedroom so he could strip out of his soiled clothes, while Chance went into the bathroom. Angus hadn’t cum that hard in…well, a very long time. He dropped his pants and then his underwear–and when he looked down, he had to muffle a cry of surprise.