FSE

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"I don't know how you can eat that stuff!" Marten stared, frowning, large fennec ears twitching as he watched his canine friend take another bite of the deep-fried lump. The shaggy dog stuck his tongue out, bits of fried Twinkie still spattered on it's surface. "That's got to be a couple thousand calories right there."

"Oh come off it, the state fair is only one time a year! Plus, I've lost enough weight that I can afford to go off that kibble you've been feeding me of late." The burly Bernese plucked another large lump up out of the basket, and offered. "Come on, don't you want to at least try one? It's better than you think, and you could use a few pounds on that skinny fox-body of yours."

Marten eyed that lump, frowning, reaching, then changing his mind. "Maybe later. Gah, besides, you're shedding over your food again. I told you to to get yourself trimmed last week!"

"I like the natural, shaggy look! You want me to look like a poodle?" Thomas happily wagged his tail, devouring that last dessert and tossing the paper basket away in a nearby bin. "Don't worry, I'll get myself combed out. They usually have old fashion barbers and the like. Don't get so stressed out! I dragged you out here to have fun after all, get you away from that desk job of yours."

Martin sighed deep, leaning into the shoulder-hug from the bigger dog. "Alright, fair enough, though I still say you're too energetic for your own good." Wrapping his arm 'round the bigger canid's back, the fox cheerily flitted his tail. A nice, romantic moment, at least until the fox stumbles when Thomas stops short!

"Aha! What did I tell ya. Old fashion grooming."

Marten peeked over the canine's shoulder. "Old fashion, it's sheep sheering!"

Thomas groused, cleaning off his chin and fingers with a napkin, and tossing that too in the trash bin. "It says Sheep and Sheepdogs! Authentic Old-world Canine Grooming. I had a great grandpa who was a shepherd in the Alps! Come on, you said I should get a trim, I'll get a trim! It'll be fun!"

"Oh all right, you get your pelt curried then. Just don't get your tail docked!" Said tail was playfully snatched at. "Anyways, I still don't know how you walk around with all that fur without panting all of the place in the summer. I'm going to run and get some drinks, maybe see how long it is until the chicken competition. See you in a bit?"

"Fine fine, it'll be more of a surprise that way." Thomas grinned doggishly, bumping noses with the fennec. "Hurry back!"

Of course, the dog took a moment to watch Marten wander away, sighing deeply at the sight. Really, what was it about foxes? Gruffing, shaking his head, adjusting those shorts of his, the dog wandered over to the stall, past a rather surprisingly close-shorn ram in the process. Poor fellow, he must not have expected to get trimmed that short, given his downright blushing appearance!

"Hallo there!" Clippers in hand, a beaming red fox slapped the Bernese on the shoulder. "It's good to see a familiar breed! I'm actually from Switzerland you know, born and raised!" One could certainly tell from the fellow's accent.

"Really! My great grandparents were Swiss!" Thomas's tail wagged fitfully, shaking the fellow's free hand, at least until the vulpine nearly yelped! "Oh, sorry, don't know my own strength sometimes! Comes with being a big dog I suppose. Anyways, I saw the sign, what's this about an old-world canine grooming?"

"Ja! Just like in the old days. Quite a simple treatment, like you were a simple dog back in the Alps. Sit, up there, yes, good boy!" The comment had Thomas pause, crouched over the offered stool a moment, before he let his lips curl back into a broad grin.

"Sorry, that phrase just made me think of something else. Ah, what does it all enta...yelp!" The vulpine didn't waste any time, pulling up the large dog's shirt right over his head, and tossing it with a flourish onto a nearby hook.

"Just what any proper sheep dog would need before heading out for weeks on end to watch the flock! After all, a good-looking dog is a happy dog!" Bare chested, in public? Thomas wasn't completely used to such a thing. There were already a few curious onlookers, pausing as they walked past.

"Well, yes, but what does that...argh!" A rough-toothed comb was soon getting dragged through all his shaggy fur, working out bits of twigs from raking the lawn earlier, then rolling about in the leaves, then re-raking them. Those last two parts he hadn't quite told Marten about. He could just imagine the big-eared fennec laughing and giggling if he were here, watching the big dog having his arms hoisted over his head, having his sides combed with rough, practiced strokes. Hmph, he could even imagine Marten doing the combing!

That made that rough combing not so bad! After all, despite the accent, despite the more russet fur, this fellow did look a bit like his boyfriend. Oddly enough, that thought made his tongue roll out.

"Good boy! You're sitting so well for this. Usually I have you dogs squirming all over!" At the thought of squirming, now the Bernese couldn't get Marten out of his head!

"Well we're easy going canines, us sheepdogs!" He grinned, he leaned back, he panted and wagged his tail. In fact, he was rather enjoying the attention, even if that comb did smart when it hit a fur tangle. More than a few people were watching now, and despite himself, he couldn't help but roll those big shoulders, loose the self consciousness he had about his light belly, simply enjoying being the center of attention, like any dog loves. That too made him think of Marten, of how the fox loved him to show off, to flex, to gruff and strut about the house nude.

Even when he wasn't, that fennec would pull at his shorts, working at his zipper, and...wait, that was the red fox! Thomas yelped, shocked out of his revere. "Ack! Hey! Careful bud, I'm a taken dog!"

"Oh don't worry, this is all part of the show! You did want the full treatment after all, correct? Well I can't finish while you're still wearing shorts. After all, most sheepdogs went nude on the slopes back home in the old days. Now stop squirming, there we go!" The fox worked more by moving quickly, than brute force, slipping down those cargo shorts, boxers and all, and again with a practiced flourish leaving them hanging from the nearby hooks. The crowd was getting bigger.

Thomas didn't mind showing off, but being suddenly nude did change a few things! Ahem...especially since he had been daydreaming about his fennec!

"Now, stand up a moment, staaaand? There we go." He wasn't used to getting scritched along his belly in reward. Ahem, again, not in public! It was making his sheath itch. That...too was taken care of. When the fox said he was thorough, he was thorough, and that rough comb went from inner thighs, down the legs, up the calves, and with some coaxing, right along that furry butt!

For a moment, Thomas wasn't sure how to stand, how to react to all the folks staring away, more than a few whispers going about. Somewhere though, something clicked. Ha! They were all impressed! That changed everything.

The big dog put hands to hips, posing as casual as he could manage, just as if he were standing in a crowd, only naked of course. And for some reason, that too was a rather appealing thought. On display, being slaved over by a cute fennec fox, combed and groomed and spoiled and...rrrrrf...his mind was starting to wander again. He could just feel Marten's agile fingers, coaxing and rubbing and milking and tweaking. It made him forget that the fellow holding his balls, combing them with short, bristled strokes wasn't actually his fox!

"Ahh, you're rather enjoying this, aren't you?"

The dog froze, realizing that he was already half out of his sheath! "Ahh...well...maybe I should put my shorts back..."

"Oh it's no trouble! Perfectly natural reaction!" The fox set his comb aside, taking a manual set of sheers instead. "It's the crowd, and the newness, and the intimacy of it all." It all did make sense. "Don't worry! If you like, there's a quite natural way to cure your showmanship erection right here and now, won't take more than a minute!"

"Now hold on, I don't quite want to get jerked off in front..."

"Oh nothing like that! Now, you stay there for just a moment, let me finish the trim, and we'll get you all fixed up!"

Hmph, though in the mean time, he had even more people peering at that peeking member of his! No, no time to get sheepish now (haha, puns!) he might as well enjoy the attention in the mean time.

He just hoped Marten didn't see him like this!

Besides, it was nice to be spoiled, even if it was rather rough! Combing finished, the fox readied his sheers, trimming not to a lamb-fuzz closeness, but to a much more natural crop. Neck and head and ears and shoulders all soon has that long fur rolling away, leaving a clean, furry shortness behind. Hands gripped his sides, his arms, his shoulders, shifting and pulling and angling the dog, trimming up and over and under and across.

He really couldn't help himself, all that fond fondling, all the moments Marten has rubbed his shoulders, his chest, his muscles and ribs, it was all coming back. It hadn't helped that he had been away for the last few weeks. Every foxy curve, narrow nose, bright eyes, nimble fingers, kneading the big dog in delightful ways.

Ah hell, he wasn't even embarrassed anymore.

His tail was trimmed, his back, his butt and cheeks, black and white and brown fur rolling off leaving a clean, even coat behind and plenty of sloughed hair on the wooden stage at his feet. "Alright, siiiiit? Good boy!" Not that he had a choice, with that firm hand pushing down on his shoulders. Knees apart, eyes lost in the distance, he didn't bother foregoing the little fantasy, of his fennec stroking and grooming up one leg, then the other, before coaxing both knees apart.

He was panting about that time, lost in revere, not ignoring the vulpine shepherd's trim fingers between his legs, so casually taking hold of those handsomely large and close-carried testes. There were more whispers about, but for the most part the crowed was hushed.

For the fox, it was all quite casual. Oh he would put a palm up on that quite natural, if rather large canine erection, pinning the reddish shaft against white belly out of the way. A firm pressure that did seem to make the big dog whine, to lick his lips, to close his eyes and pant, but then again, that too was natural!

Those sheers were brought to bare, deadly sharp, but never a nick shows in that white pelt as the fox snipped snipped, trimming in fine, cropping motions, working along that soft stomach, those inner thighs, shifting and pulling those canine spuds from one side of his groin, to the other. Perfectly trimmed and groomed, from that bunched scrotum, to those large, dangling dog nuts. But of course, there was more work to be had!

The dog was lost in the moment, unmindful as the trimmer reached for new tools. Oh sure, the canine might only feel a firm pressure on his cock, pinning it in place out of the way, might feel trim fingers so casually squeezing and pulling his big testicles, drawing them low in their scrotum. He might even feel the cool metal sliding up his thighs!

The fox prided himself on a dog not feeling the last bit. It had to do with distractions. There wasn't anaesthetic on the farm after all! Cheerily flitting his vulpine tail about, shifting to one side for the crowd to watch the demonstration, he pinched with his fingers juuuust at the root of Thomas's big doggy cock!

The big sheepdog barked! Eyes open, ears perked, his revere broken by that sudden pinching grip. Just as the vupine expected. A good sharp pinch there, and a dog never notices the much more sudden, quick, spring-loaded pliers pinching elsewhere. Quick fingers looped those big nuts in between those teeth, tugging hefty doggy testes down into the bottom of their pouch, kneading and pulling until everything was lined up juuuust so. Deflection and distraction, putting pressure at that stiff masculine canine root, to keep him from thinking of the similarly-constricted root of that sack of doggy potatoes hanging between Thomas's legs!

Snick! It was more sound than feeling, and while Thomas was growling and gruffing, reaching to rub his groin, he'd never even notice the sudden feel of coolness, the sudden lighter snick of skin and cords and emasculating blades! More than a few fat dog pouches had rested between them, and the large bernese's scrotum only put up the barest resistance, before falling and thunking fat and fleshy into an awaiting vulpine palm.

"Careful there bud! I...oh. oOooohh!" He suddenly realized it all, that he had been close to spurting all over his chest, before a rather large group of amazed onlookers!

THAT brought his modesty back into focus! There he sat, with everyone around staring blankly at his groin. He was suddenly very, very aware of his thrumming erection. "I...uh...where did you put my shorts?"

The vulpine grinned broadly, putting away his tools, tucking a few large scraps away in a small bowl. "Don't worry! I have them right here. And now you're ready to go weeks on end to protect the flocks of sheep! Now, staaaand? Good boy!" The dog glared...but not too harshly, more focused on all those peering at his rather large, flagging stiffy than on the fox sliding up his boxers and shorts!

They felt loser than usual for some reason! Must be his hair being so much shorter, that surely had to be it.

"Well, uh, thanks for the trim, I already feel like a new dog!" And it was true, he rather enjoyed the odd sensation. Everything fit...different, he felt different!

"Indeed! Just like a proper farm dog of old, eh? Now, that'll be eight dollars."

"Oh...ahh...right! Hold on..." The dog grunted, huffed, tongue poking out of his muzzle as he dug about his shorts. Hmph, something just felt so different!

"Eight dollars! And...uh...thanks!" His erection still hadn't subsided, trapped by that buckled waist to keep it from sticking out so lewdly. Not to mention his fur DID feel much better! "Thanks again for the demonstration."

"And thank you for being such a good dog! Everyone! Let's give him a hand!" The crowd clapped, some cheerily, some in surprise, and a few even wolf-whistled. Thomas grinned broadly, hesitantly, before waving to them all. "Now, if you'll give me a moment, I have to get rid of all this loose fur and other leftovers. Pardon me..." The fox slinked off, carrying that odd bowl. Hmm, what had been in there? Some bit of leftover fur? he saw something white, and something fleshy in th...

"Hey there doggy!"

Thomas yelped, caught in surprise by the sudden hug from behind. "Oh! Marten! Ahh, there you are."

"You look handsome! My that fellow did a great job!" Foxy fingers roamed over his shoulders, his scruff, his ears, and up under his shirt. It took all the dog's effort not to lid his eyes and pant. This new shorter fur was actually...quite nice!

"Indeed he did, trimmed me up like a proper sheep dog he says!"

"That's wonderful! I'll have to see more when we get home after the chicken judging." Those fingers slipped, and soon enough found that hiding knotty erection. "Or would you rather slip home early, and show off your new haircut. I'd looooove to see the show dog strut."

The dog outright coughed! "I'm no show dog, but, well, maybe, we can always see the chickens tomorrow after all. I did buy us weekend passes."

"Good! I'm just going to grab something quick to eat on the walk back."

Thomas rubbed his ears, his muzzle, his face. Gah, foxes were going to be the death of him. He didn't know why he was so damned horny all of a sudden. Something was just...missing!

"Here we go! Something fried, just as you said. I figure I'll get it over with so we can go back to eating couscous tomorrow."

The dog frowned, squinted and sniffed at an offered lump on a stick. It certainly was fried and breaded. Marten was already eagerly biting into his, gnawing into the fleshy-fried meat.

"Not sure what they are, fellow at the counter said they were fresh, and traditional after a dog sheering! Not sure what sort of chicken nuggets are traditional for a sheering."

Thomas grunted, sniffing again. There was just something...familiar about them. Ah well! He bit into the juicy orb, gnawing into rubbery meat and crunching on breading. "Well they're not too bad. Rather large mouthful I'd say."

"I know something else that's quite a mouthful." Already finished with his own treat, the fox wrapped his arm 'round Thomas's back, practically dragging him off to the car. "And I'm going to get every bit tonight!"

"Uh...what has you in such a mood!?"

"Not sure, but suddenly I feel quite perked up. Now heel, you big handsome mutt you!"

Thomas gave a sheepish grin, curling his tail and quickly trotting to keep pace. Something felt...different, that was sure, but then again, it didn't feel all that bad! Oh well, he was sure he'd figure it out soon enough. "Woof woof!"

It promised to be an interesting evening!

Fin